


Me, My Cigarette, and The World

by Emilyisarat



Category: Blur (Band)
Genre: Alex James - Freeform, Damon Albarn - Freeform, Dave Rowntree - Freeform, Jamie Hewlett - Freeform, M/M, blur - Freeform, graham coxon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2019-08-20 10:50:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilyisarat/pseuds/Emilyisarat
Summary: Graham is a somewhat successful artist who chooses the safety of his apartment over a social life.Damon is in a dead end band that he is far too talented for.





	1. Graham, the 24 year old hermit.

(Graham’s POV)

Why does the world have to be against me today?

I've run out of blue paint, my tv finally broke after months of clinging to life and the people in the apartment below me are apparently planning a massive party tonight that none of the neighbors are all too thrilled about. I guess I'm being a bit dramatic, but the owner of the apartment has been boasting about how he's hired a live band and I don't really fancy listening to loud guitars and drums past 11pm.

I didn't do anything to fix the problems that I could though. I'm still out of paint and my tv is still broken. I didn't even get dressed today. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't have mentally prepared myself to to leave the warm small space that is my bedroom until the shops were closed.

I can hear people talking beneath me and I roll my eyes before checking the clock. It's around 10pm, so the party down there is probably starting now. I want to call the cops and just report them right now so I won't have to deal with the noise for the rest of the night, but I kind of want to stay on Alex's good side as he bakes sweets for all the neighbors come Christmas time. It's just about the only think I have to look forward to around that time of year, so I'm just going to have to tough out this one time.

It's only a matter of minutes before the band starts up. The guitar is sloppy and the drums are mediocre at best, but that voice... It could really take them places. It has a unique lightness to it that I'm not even going to try and explain. It's just simply beautiful. The first song finishes, and there's a roar of approval that surges though the apartment. The band blasts into another song. It's a lot more intense than the last.

Instead of listening more, I move back to my painting and stare at it in disdain. It's only half done because I was a complete idiot and didn't double check if I had enough blue. Spoiler alert, I didn't. The painting isn't all that spectacular. It could be a lot better, but I brought my client in to see if they liked it so far, they had no complaints. They must have low standards for art.

I put on a Talking Heads record before grabbing a sketch book and sitting down in my bed. I don't remember the last time I just let myself draw things from the depth of my mind. I'm pretty much always busy with commissions and even when I'm not, I'm numbing my brain with the television until my eyes are sore and my head swirls. You could say it's an addiction, but it's really just boredom. I don't talk to anybody other than the friendly old woman that I have tea with on Sundays who lives next door. That reminds me, I should probably make something to bring tomorrow so I don't seem rude.

Grace is an all around lovely woman who cares for me like I'm her son. Her own children never visit her so she enjoys my company and it's nice. No one ever enjoys my company. Maybe I'm too awkward or shy, but I've never really got on with other people.

I draw random faces that I see on the backs of my eyelids so I don't forget them. I always do this. Certain facial features from different people will mesh together to create a brand new person who stares back at me from the paper. Harsh lines and eraser shavings line their face, but I don't mind it like that. I miss when I could be complimented on my detailed sketches and not just the random lines of splattered paint on canvases that I sell for hundreds of dollars. It makes me sad that people eat it all up and fork their money over for it as they claim they can see every emotion in each brushstroke. What a load of pretentious bullshit.

The time is nearing 1am now and the noise is beginning to become insufferable. It's still quite early, but I'm tired after a day of doing nothing. I want to get to bed. The band doesn't sound as pleasant as when they first started. The vocalist is slipping up now. I presume he's beginning to feel all the drinks he was yelling about in the previous hours. Serves him right.

I nearly laugh when I hear someone from downstairs yell about seeing cops. They all sound so frantic, running around. I wonder who called it in. It was probably Jamie. He always has work really early in the morning and I wouldn't be surprised if he was just as fed up with the noise as I am.

Everything is loud and hectic, until it isn't. The police must have finally gone in to sort out everything. I close my sketch book and turn off my lamp, listening to the crackling sound behind the music. I would die happy if I were always listening to that sound. I lay there for a few songs before I have the urge to go for a smoke. I sigh and get out of my bed.

I live alone so smoking in the house wouldn't be a problem, but I hate not being able to feel a slight breeze on my face as I smoke something that could potentially kill me. That breeze makes me feel alive in ways I never thought I could.

I make my way to the balcony and pay no attention as I step out onto it. I have a few seconds of silence where it's just me, my cigarette and the world, but something pulls me out of my calming trance.

"Hey mate, do you think I could bum one of those off you? I'm fresh out."

What the absolute fuck?


	2. The man on my balcony.

Graham

"Hey mate, do you think I could bum one of those off you? I'm fresh out."

I stare at the stranger who stares back. My eyes are probably wide behind my glasses and my heart is sped up in fear. He just waits patiently. I hand him the cigarette that he takes without a word before lighting it and sucking in a large amount of smoke. I admire his features as he gives the city lights a dazed, but happy look. So many questions swim through my head, but before I can swallow my anxiety and ask him something, he talks first.

"Were you at the party downstairs?" He asks and I shake my head no. He laughs, showing off his somewhat wonky teeth. "You missed out! The live band was amazing!" He cheers cockily. I recognize his voice though, now that the initial shock of finding a stranger on my balcony has worn off. He's really trying to fish for compliments?

Though I'm not fully terrified of him anymore, the anxiety hasn't left my body. "I-I'm not the biggest f-fan of parties. I had some work around he-here to finish anyways." I respond while silently cursing my nervous stutter for making me sound so childish and vulnerable. The man just lazily smiles my way with a hint of amusement in his eyes. My cheeks go warm with embarrassment.

"Well, you probably would have enjoyed this one." He shrugs as he hastily finishes his cigarette and throws it over the metal railing. How the fuck did he smoke that so fast? Did he even let himself think about his inevitable death every time he blew out smoke? Maybe it's just me that does that last one.

I take my time while I finish my fag. When I stub it out into my ashtray and begin to make my way back inside, the man follows and I stop with my hand on the doorknob. I don't want him to come inside. What if he makes fun of me for my messy apartment? I don't know who he is. What if he thinks my apartment is like this all the time? I mean, it is. But that's beside the point!

"We going in?" He asks from behind me and I take a deep breath before opening the door and inviting him. He doesn't laugh at the mess of books stacked in every corner or the empty mugs of coffee sitting around. He just lays down on top of the heap of blankets on my couch. I've decided that he's not a threat, but my brain is still in defence mode. Just as I'm about to go lock myself in my room, he mumbles something.

"Huh?" I ask, praying that he was actually asking me something and that I'm not just making a fool out of myself.

"Stay here. I want someone to talk to." He mumbles it again, but I can hear him clearly, now that I'm listening for him. I heave out a sigh as I sit down on the love seat and face him, pulling my knees to my chest. I'm extremely uncomfortable right now and I hope it doesn't transfer over to him. Even though he did rudely intrude and invite himself into my home, I want to be a good host for him. I don't get visitors to often if it wasn't already hard to tell.

"S-So what's your name?" Why am I still nervous? It's been established so far that this man is harmless and just drunk. Why is my mind telling me that he's unsafe? I don't even think he could get up right now even if he wanted to.

"Damon Albarn. Remember that name. You'll hear it again one day." His eyes are droopy and he's obviously falling asleep, but every time his breathing evens out and I think I can go back to my room to go to bed, his eyes shoot open. It's like he's fighting off sleep.

"What's your name, love?" He asks after a few minutes of him fading in and out of consciousness. I find him somewhat good looking as he perks up a bit, waiting for my response. I make him wait a bit, taking a moment to think about how unlike me this all is. I don't even know Damon at all, and now he's sprawled out on my couch like he pays bills here. I just sat back and let this happen too. "Well?"

"Graham." I finally answer. I don't stutter either. It would be quite humiliating if I stuttered out my own name. I'm happy that my voice wasn't against me.

"Hmm. You do look like a Graham." What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Damon has confused me a lot so far and we've only met maybe 15 minutes ago. I can't say that my night would be interesting without this encounter, but I never really liked surprises. I want my life to be like stagnant air and still pools of water. Unmoving.

"W-What do you mean by that?" I try to be polite as I as possibly can. I'm not sure if I even meant to speak up, but the words tumbled from my lips like I couldn't hold them in if I even tries.

"Fuck if I know. You just look- cute. Y'know? The name fits you very well." Damon waves off my question and I blush a bright red colour at his compliment. Nobody's ever called me cute before. I look back to Damon to see that he's finally fallen asleep. I get up and go into my bedroom, laying down in my mess of blankets once again.

My brain wanders to thoughts only reserved for late nights. Would a sleepless night really be sleepless if I didn't drudge up every past mistake and regret I've stored away? Probably not.

I think back to the time Grace had booked me an appointment with a therapist because she was worried about me. I initially didn't want to go, but she had already payed for it and I felt bad for making her waste money on me. I just remember the young therapist asking me what I reckon my last through would be if I were to die, I told her that it would probably be something along the lines of ‘finally’. She had gasped as she'd never heard someone utter anything like that, but I was there because I wanted to die. She knew that.

The memory makes me laugh even though it's not really all that funny. I guess I'm just making light of the situation I was in back then. I can't really say I was in the best of places, hell, I'm still not doing all that great, but it was a lot worse those few years ago. I can't count the amount of times I had stared at the streets below my balcony and thought about just jumping. I never really plucked up enough courage to do so though because of my deathly fear of heights. That reminds me, how did Damon get on my balcony? My apartment is on the eighth floor.

I shake the pointless thought out of my head before I snuggle into my duvet and focus on falling asleep to the loud snores in the room just outside my bedroom door. It's surprisingly easier than I thought it would be.

***

"Graham! Do you have an extra toothbrush lying about?" My eyes shoot open and I lay unmoving in my bed, fear taking over my body before I completely relax and remember last night in waves. Damon on my balcony, me letting him into my home, Damon falling asleep on my couch. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up.

"Yeah, there should be one in the drawer." I mumble and rub the sleep out of my eyes as I set off to my bathroom, but quickly stop in my tracks when I notice a very naked Damon crouched low, searching under my sink. My mouth goes dry as I attempt to look away. He just looks up at me and smiles.

"Thank god you're awake! I threw up a few hours ago and my mouth still tastes horrid!" His hair is dripping wet as he complains. He's obviously taken a shower. I look over to my toilet to see that he has indeed thrown up... all over the toilet seat. He really couldn't have cleaned that up?

"There's probably a toothbrush in the drawer." I repeat myself, swallowing down the uncomfortable feeling of some sort of attraction to the man before me. The last thing I need right now is to get hard in front of this stranger. He probably already thinks I'm weird. I don't need him thinking I'm bent too.

"Oh, thanks man." He shrugs as he stands up and begins to rifle through the drawer, pulling out a toothbrush that was still in it's box. I leave him be and go off to the kitchen to make coffee and attempt to shake off the uneasy feeling that rests in my stomach. I wondered to myself last night if Damon was as destructive and loud sober as he is drunk. This morning proved that he is. I never invited him in to make me question my goddamn sexuality! I never really invited him in at all, now that I think about it.

Even though I'm irrationally mad, I still pour double the cups of coffee that I normally would and leave out the sugar and milk for the intruder in my home. It's only polite that way.

Minutes later, a fully clothed Damon strolls in, eagerly taking the coffee and dumping heaps of sugar and milk into it. The sight makes me cringe just a bit, but I don't want to be rude so I bite my tongue and try to ignore it, focusing on my own hot drink.

"So... how did you get on my balcony?" I ask after a few minutes of a surprisingly comfortable silence. I had to really talk myself into breaking it if I'm being honest because the man leaning on the counter across from me seems like the kind of person who doesn't shut up once you start a conversation.

"I climbed." He tells me as if it's no big deal. "I needed somewhere to go when the cops showed up. They probably would have found my weed and that wouldn't have gone down in the best of ways." He has drugs on him?! God, this is worse than I thought. What if the police come for me now because I'm keeping him here?

Damon must sense my panic because he tells me to relax, saying that it's not a hardcore drug while he laughs at me. I don't know that though! He could be lying straight to me. I've never done weed before. The chance just never arose. I guess that’s all due to my not so adventurous teen years, I'm clueless to nearly everything that people around my age do for fun.

“Seriously Graham, it’s fine. Weed’s not that big of a deal.” He stops laughing now, seeing that I’m genuinely freaking out. I just nod silently and stare at the ground, attempting to calm my breathing.

I think after watching me sit on the verge of a panic attack, Damon decides not to speak up again. I don’t want him to be walking on eggshells around me, but most of the things he probably wants to talk about would give his mother a heart attack if she could hear him right now, and it would probably have the same effect on me.

“I- uh, I should get going. The band is probably right pissed at me disappearing. It was nice meeting you, Graham. Thank you for your hospitality.” He’s gone all quiet and polite now. I’ve ruined it, I know I have. I’ve just gone and made him uncomfortable. The one attempt I’ve gotten in years to make a new friend was just ruined by me and my stupid anxiety.

Fucking hell.


	3. Venturing down the hall.

(Graham’s POV)

Damon made a quick exit out of my apartment and I tried not to let it discourage me. I carry on with my morning as if he was never there, except he did leave a fair bit of vomit on toilet seat for me to clean up. I almost added to the mess when I nearly touched it with my hand. That was easily on of the most disgusting things I've ever dealt with in my life.

After that, my day went back to the uneventful blandness I've grown to love. I feel a bit empty now though. I don't know if I should have enjoyed Damon's short lived presence, or be glad he's gone. Though he was a terrible guest, just knowing that I wasn't all alone in the apartment made me feel excited. I of course had to mess it up though. I let out a sigh as I get in the shower.

I absolutely need to go out today to buy my paint and a new tv. I think I have enough money saved up and if I just keep my head down and try to look intimidating, maybe people won't try to approach me. I know that won't work though because I've been told that I resemble a huggable teddy bear. I never really wanted to hear that. I wanted to be Graham, the tough, unapproachable man that strangers don't want to talk to, but I also do want people to talk to and like me. Why am I so confusing to myself?

I step out of the shower an dry my body off with a towel before wrapping it around my bottom half and starring at myself in the foggy mirror over my bathroom sink. I have to tell myself that I'll be okay. That I won't die in a freak accident, and that I won't make a complete fool of myself today. I will be okay.

By the time I finish convincing myself that I absolutely have to leave my apartment, my hair is dry and the steam from my shower has cleared out. I walk to my bedroom to get dressed. It takes me a few minutes, but I decide to wear a striped shirt and an old pair of jeans that don't have as many paint stains on them as my other ones. I finally put on my glasses and then a pair of converse.

I take a deep breath before I leave. I really hope I don't mess anything up today. I don't need any more embarrassing moments to haunt me at night. I can't have that.

I remember that I need to be at Grace's for coffee at sometime later today as I pass her door. I should probably get something to bring with me, but I know I'll forget when the time rolls around.

Jamie smiles and waves at me when I walk out through the front entrance. I wave back shyly before continuing to make my downtown where all the stores are. Jamie and I almost never speak, but he's still extremely nice to me. I pay him to get my groceries so I don't have to deal with it and sometimes he'll just buy them for me. I probably would have starved by now if I didn't have him.

I go into the small, quiet art store and quickly grab a few jars of blue paint before putting them on the front counter. The woman working asks me if that's all I'm buying. I grab a few jars of other colours because she probably thinks that I'm being cheap. My bag ends up a lot heavier than I had intended it to be.

Next I walk to the pawnshop. I don't need a brand new tv, that would be far too expensive. I decide on one of medium size before realizing that I have to get it home. I pay for it and ask the man working if there's a phone I can use to call a cab. He grumbles and rolls his eyes before showing me to the back room. I anxiously thank him before I call. The cab shows up within a few minutes and I'm home by noon.

I sigh in relief as I enter my apartment. Leaving wasn't as awful as I thought it would be. Having to ask to use the phone in the pawnshop was quite embarrassing, but it was over all an okay experience. Now would be a good time to head over to Grace's so I don't over think my every action from earlier.

I leave my apartment for the second time today and walk down the hall and knock on Grace's door. She answers with a motherly smile, telling me to come in. She has everything set up nicely like always and she's already poured me a cup of coffee just how I like.

Grace is definitely a mother figure for me. I've never fit in with my family and I think it really challenged my real mother's love for me. She still calls once every few months to check in on me, but I haven't seen her, my father or my siblings for years. They always beg me to come home for Christmas and some years I nearly do, but it's been so long. I don't even know what I would say to them if anything at all.

"So how are you today Graham?" Graces voice shakes the thought of my family from my head and I look up at her as she sits down. I take a sip of coffee.

"I'm quite fine today. I went out to get a few things earlier. How are you?" I ask politely.

"I am exhausted. That damn party downstairs kept me up all last night." She says with a small yawn. "I'd go yell at Alex for it but I don't have the heart. He's still young. I might as well let him have his fun." She shrugs.

"Y'know, the funniest thing happened last night." I pause and she looks at me like she's saying 'go on'. "This man showed up on my balcony from the party and then crashed on my couch." I explain. Grace throws her head back in laughter.

"Really?" She asks and I nod my head, laughing a bit as well. "Tell me about your balcony boy." She says as she puts a bit of sugar in her tea. I smile down at the drink in my hands.

"Well, his name is Damon, and he threw up on my toilet seat and was very, very drunk last night." I tell her. She nods and gives me a knowing look. Oh god, please don't do this. Please Grace, I'm begging-

"Was he cute?" There it is. She asked it. She's been hinting that I'm probably gay for a long time now, but she does this with everyone. I could sit at a bus stop with a girl in silence and she'd ask me if I liked her. I guess she doesn't want me to die alone or something like that, but it's probably going to be that way. I've sort of started to accept the fact that the only person who would care if I died would be the old woman sitting across from me.

"W-Why do you always ask that?" I stutter and blush a bit. I'll try to deny it as much as I want and find Grace's questions annoying, but I won't lie and say that Damon is unattractive because he is the exact opposite. I think back to this morning when I walked by the bathroom to see him completely naked. I didn't hate it. I wouldn't be opposed to touching him. I blush even more at the thought.

Grace gasps and claps her hands together. "Graham! You like him, don't you!" Dear lord, she's not going to drop this any time soon now. I will never hear the end of this. "What does he look like? I'm dying to know now!" I shake my head and roll my eyes. I don't even know anything about him. What am I supposed to tell her? I know for a fact that she wouldn't like him if she met him. She'd think he's loud and reckless, which he seems like he is.

"He has kind of messy blonde hair and light blue eyes. His teeth are wonky and he is quite rude. I don't like him, really. I don't know him at all anyways." I try not to smile to myself as I think of Damon. I refuse to say anything that could be considered nice about him in front of Grace, because she would just bring him up all the time and I know he doesn't like me even as a friend. I'll probably never see him again.

"He sounds absolutely lovely!" She smiles. I don't understand why she's so excited. I guess I haven’t met new people in a while and she likes the drama goes around with our neighbors.

I sigh before deciding to change the topic. She sighs, but doesn’t push it anymore. We sit and talk for a few hours before I decide that I should head home and finish my painting. The deadline for it is next week and it’s barely done. I could probably just throw stuff at a canvas and have the same feedback from art critics so I don’t know why I always try to put so much work into my paintings.

“Do you think you can run this down to Alex before you go out? My show starts in a few minutes.” Grace asks as She holds out a container with a note taped to the top. I nod before putting my shoes on and taking it. We exchange goodbyes and I head downstairs and repeat what I have to say over and over in my head until I’m at Alex’s door.

I take a deep breath before knocking on the door and waiting a few minutes. I hear no movement from the other side as I wait. Maybe he’s not home, or he is home and he just doesn’t want to answer because I knocked too loud. Maybe I didn’t knock loud enough?

The door swings open to reveal Alex and his messy apartment in all it’s glory. “Graham! I haven’t seen you in forever! I was beginning to think you died!” He greets me and pulls me into a hug. I go completely stiff but I try to hug back so he doesn’t think I’m rude.

“I-I have something from G-Grace for you.” I stutter as he lets go of me and I hold out the container. His face completely lights up as he takes it from my hands.

“I though she was never going to make lasagna again.” He smiles as he he looks down at it with adoration. Alex is so easy to keep happy it’s insane. Just cook for him once a week and he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of his life. “D’you want to come in for a beer or something? I have plenty leftover from last night.” He invites me in, but I politely decline.

“I should probably get back upstairs. I have a lot of work to finish up.” I mention quietly. His face falls a bit and I feel bad, but he recovers quickly, saying something along the lines of ‘maybe next time’ before thanking me. I head back to the stairwell and count the steps back to my front door. I almost trip a few times before I get there.

I’m completely ready to just go to bed now. I know I said I had work that needed to be finished, but today has been absolutely exhausting. For most normal people, my day is just normal for them. Just everyday life, but for me it’s adventurous.

When I get to my apartment, I’m met with a surprise sitting at my door.

“Hey Graham? Are you looking for a new roommate?” Damon asks from where he’s sitting on the carpeted floor. I’m happy to see him again, but worried at the same time. I can’t just not let him live here if he needs a place to stay, I’d feel bad about it for the rest of my life, but I also don’t want him to live here.

“I can’t s-say I was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was going to get this out yesterday but it’s 4am right now and I just finished it. I kind of hate this chapter to be honest. I’ll try to write another one for today.


	4. Left behind.

(Graham’s POV)

Why is Damon here? I thought I would never see him again after this morning, but here he is sitting on my couch, not even a day later. Seeing him made my stomach do a nervous flip. It wasn't the bad kind of nervous that I usually deal with though. It was an excited kind of nervous. The kind you get when you’re a child on Christmas Eve. It feels exhilarating now though.

"So why do you need a place to live again?" I ask him. He had tried to explain, but then got side tracked and told me a story about he thinks he met Paul McCartney but he's not really sure. How can you not know if you've met Paul McCartney? Damon is a strange man. 

"Oh! Yeah! My band left town without me. Mike said he was replacing me and if he sings like he drums, I feel bad for every sorry soul that has to listen to them." He shrugs it off, but I can see the slight hurt in his eyes. I can understand why he's hurt I guess. His band mates who he thought were his friends just up and left him to fend for himself in the middle of London. I kind of feel bad for him.

"I-uhh... I don't have another bedroom, but this is a pullout couch. You're w-welcome to stay if you want." I say nervously. Hopefully he'll be able to support himself in a few months and I can go back to painting and watching tv alone in my every waking moment. Sounds like an amazing life, I know.

"Wait, really?" He asks like he thought I would say no. Maybe he realized how poorly behaved he was last night. I don't really think I'd be able to say no. He really needs some help right now and I wouldn't want him living on the streets. He wouldn't last long out there. Anyways, I don't mind giving him a hand. Maybe we could be friends.

"Y-Yeah." I try to smile. "I have to finish something up for w-work. You c-can um, make yourself at h-home I guess." I stumble over my words as I stand up. Damon just smiles and jumps up before hugging me. I nearly push him away, but he lets go before it comes to that.

"Thank you so much Graham! You won't regret this. I'll start paying rent as soon as I get a job too!" The words leave his lips at a fast pace as if I'm about to change my mind at any moment. I mean, I could definitely change my mind, but I won't. That would be too cruel and unfair of me to kick him out now. I’m quite worried about him thinking about staying long enough to start paying rent.

After that, I went to my room and had a staring competition with my painting. The painting won. No matter how much I tried to imagine the harsh yellow and red lines blinking back at me, they never did. I hate this. I hate abstract art. It’s too mechanical and inhumane. I hear the door open behind me but I don't react.

"Did you paint that?"

"Yep."

"It's quite shit, isn't it."

"Yep."

I'm glad someone agrees that my art is shit. I never thought it would be Damon. He should probably learn to keep his mouth shut though because if I were anyone else, he wouldn't have a place to stay tonight. I turn around to face him and put my dirty paint brush in a nearby cup filled with water. He sits on my bed.

"Why do you paint like that?" He asks. He sounds like a child asking his parent a stupid question. My eyebrows raise. I shouldn't really be surprised at his question. I'm not. It's already been revealed that Damon is pretty upfront and overly confident about some things, so I don't even flinch when he criticizes the very thing my life was built upon.

"It sells. People like it." I shrug as I sit on the stool in front of my easel. He furrows his eyebrows and I watch his eyes scan my features. He's looking for something.

"You don't like it... Do you?" He asks with a slight sad look in his eyes. I don't need his pity. He staring straight at me like he can see my soul and I feel exposed and vulnerable. It's weird how there are people I consider to be my friends and family and not even they know how miserable I am with my career. Why did I let Damon find out so quickly? Why does he get to know about my lack of interest in abstract art, but they don't? It's unfair. It makes me feel bad.

"Why a-are you even in here? What do you n-need?" I ask quickly. I need to get him out of my room before I start to think about how my life has amounted to nothing but pretty coloured jagged lines on a big canvas and start crying. He's already seen too much of me today. I don't want to be stuck living with him in awkward silences all because this first day wen't wrong.

"I don't remember anymore, but I think it has something to do with the kitchen." He ponders and his eyebrows knit together once again.

"There's t-tea in the cabinet b-beside the mugs." I offer, hoping he leaves soon. I mean, his presence isn't awful, but I'd much rather finish this up without him breathing down my neck making me rethink every decision I've made in my life because that's what he's doing now and it's not one of the greatest feelings in the world.

"That's what it was! Thank you Graham!" He smiles and walks away. I almost thought he was going to hug me again, but luckily he didn't. I let out a long sigh of relief before going back to my staring contest.

***

"Isn't that insane? Look at it go!" Damon hits at the side of my arm as he stares at the tv, eyes wide with a dumbfound expression on his face. I didn't know someone could be so amazed by watching Animal Planet, but Damon persists. I watch the tv now as well. There's a cheetah running after a zebra.

"It's kind of gross how we're all fascinated by this." I say as the zebra gets taken to the ground. "Like, someone actually went out to Africa to film an innocent animal loosing it's life, and we just watch it as if the zebra didn't die a painful death. I know it fits into the whole circle of life thing, but it's quite gruesome and cruel for us to watch for entertainment purposes." I don't stutter once. My eyes don't leave the screen, but I can feel Damon's burn into me.

The tv clicks off. "That's enough tv for today." He coughs quietly as he sets the remote down on the coffee table before he turns to me. "So what do you like to do for fun?"

Fun. I don't really have much of that if I'm being honest. It's not that I don't want to have fun, it's just that I can never seem to find time for it in my hectic life of sleeping in until two and painting. Maybe I should try doing other things? I probably won't. 

"I-uhh. I m-mostly just sketch w-when I'm bored." I tell him. He's probably thinking that I have an underwhelming life and he would be right. Even I sometimes think about how depressing it is that I've never had a real friend, or how my parents see me as the black sheep of the family. Normally those things don't affect me, but being completely alone all the time and then adding another person to the mix messes with my head. People aren't meant to live like I do. I'm not meant to live like I do.

"What else?" Damon asks and I stare at him with a lost look in my eyes. Why does he have to ask that? I already feel embarrassed enough about the lack of anything social going on in my life, but now he's making me question if I've been doing the whole 'free time' thing wrong as well. "You don't go out drinking or meet up with your mates or anything?" I shake my head. His eyes widen.

"Drinking j-just doesn't seem v-very appealing to me, and I don't have anyone to m-meet up with." I don't mean it to sound sad and pathetic, but lately everything that's fallen from my mouth has been just that. Sad and pathetic.

"I'm sorry, Graham." He puts his hand on my knee and I try not to focus on it. I stare at it for a few seconds before looking up and giving him the most reassuring smile I can muster up. I hate pity. I don’t need it. It’s not like I would change my life even if I wanted to so what is his pity going to do for me?

“It’s f-fine, I like it l-like this anyways.” I shrug. It’s not a big deal. Yeah, it would be nice to have more friends, but I don’t need them and it would be selfish to go out and just meet new people to dump my problems on.

Damon still hasn’t moved his hand and it’s kind of hard not to notice it now because he’s staring at it too. He looks unsure of himself and nervous until he lifts it and folds it over his other hand in his lap. He has a panicked look set into his features. I hope I didn’t do something. God, I probably made him all uncomfortable again with my worries and anxiety. He would probably rather live on the streets than with me now.

“I’m s-sorry.” I mumble and focus on the floor in front of me. What if he yells at me for being like this? I don’t think I’d be able to take that. I brace myself for the worst and hope for the best as I wait for his response.

“About what?” He asks and tilts his head to the left as if he is a puppy. What does he mean ‘about what’? He should hate me by now.

“Uhh, making you uncomfortable?” It’s so obvious. Why is he acting like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about? Is he just going to pretend like he’s fine with it now and then yell at me later? I’m not going to fall for that trick.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable though?” He looks confused. I tell him not to lie. Fuck, him living here was such a big mistake on his part. He never knew what he was getting himself into and now he’s stuck here with me and my relentless negativity. I feel so bad for ever thinking this could work out. It’s so unfair to him.

“I’m serious Gra. Lets um... do you write?” His tone is serious and caring. I raise my eyebrows. He really doesn’t hate me yet I guess. I’m honestly surprised.

“Why?” I ask. Once upon a time, I used to want to make music. I adored and thought the world of people like Damon. People who could just go out and do what they love. I gave up on my dream when I realized that performing in front of crowds isn’t my strong suit. I had written countless songs about faux confidence and stories I made in my head about what would happen if I were able to talk to the girl I liked. My mom would listen to my teen angst and say it was too loud and in your face. All I have left of those hopeful times is an old telecaster and countless full notebooks.

“Well, you seem like you have a lot of thoughts stored up inside you and there has to be some way other than those awful paintings that you get them out.” He shrugs as he taps his hands on his lap. I stand up and go to my room.

Maybe it’s time that someone other than my mother hears these songs, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a trash chapter and I want to get to them being together, but I also want to develop their characters first.
> 
> Also, this took wayyy too long for me to write. I’m sorry.


	5. 5- Hard feelings and full notebooks.

(Damon's POV)

Graham runs towards his room and I'm worried I've struck a cord. He's so insanely hard to read. I never know if I've done something wrong while I'm around him. I just need this to work out for a little while. I have to get back on my feet so I can show Mike and Louis that I can make it without them. So I can show them that I'll be fine.

They've obviously been planning on pulling something like this for ages now. Since the beginning of this year they've stopped telling anything about touring except the set lists. A slow but steady pit had grown between us just in the past few months and I decide that it's better they leave me here than try to sell me out to the police for drug possession again. That was not fun.

Just as I'm about to loose myself deeper in my thoughts, Graham dumps an armful of faded and tattered notebooks onto the coffee table before shooting me an unsure look. I take a deep red notebook from the pile and I can see that he almost tells me not to, but he bites his tongue. I open the first page expecting to see drawings or sketches, but slanted messy words stare back at me. That's when I remembered asking Graham if he wrote.

Every scratch of black into the paper held a new meaning to the last. Just reading it felt like a privilege and it probably was. Graham obviously isn't the most open person out there. I don't know how I'm still even here right now. He's so nice and pleasant to be around yet so secretive closed off. I don't know how he does it.

"These are really good, Graham." I smile as I flip through page after page of poems. Some of them get quite repetitive. Then I notice, these are all songs. Well written ones at that. There must be at least an albums worth just in this book and it looks like it's one of the older ones. He probably got better from here.

"They're really n-nothing s-special. I wrote m-most of them in h-high school so they're p-pretty angsty and d-dramatic." My eyes widen as I look up at him. How can he just write these all off as an over reaction to teenage troubles? Every thing in here holds wisdom that I didn't know a person could have, let alone a teen. 

"No! These are amazing!" I argue as he takes one of the notebooks and flips through the pages as well. "Have you ever put music to any of these? All of them could be absolute bangers."

He nods and looks up at me. "I-I used to really want to make m-music when I was a kid. It d-didn't work out, but I don't mind." His words sound empty though, like he's disappointed that he never got to do what he wanted with his life. He's letting down his walls now. I can see it in his eyes that he's letting me read his emotions. It's pretty impressive that he can just flip a switch and his feeling and worries become interpretable.

"It's never too late to start. Studio time isn't as expensive as you think." I tell him as I grab another notebook. It looks like one of the newest ones. I read through the words and notice the huge contrast to the last one I had read. It's almost as if his mind was eating away at him. Like in the beginning he had a fresh outlook on life with a bit of kick to his words, but towards the end you can see exactly where he gave up on music. Where the words became meaningless and grey. They were still great lyrics, but I could tell just how jaded and dark his life was. Reading this didn't feel right. I feel like I'm intruding. I close the book.

"What happened in '86?" I ask him. He had the dates neatly scrawled into the top corner of every page. His sucks in a sharp breath of air as I ask the question though. I think I've hit something. Maybe Graham will seem human to me if I know something happened that made him so reserved and unwilling to share his life with other people.

"I-It just wasn't the b-best year for me. A-A lot happened." He shrugs. I don't know how old he is, but I know he would have had to be a teen back then. Was it a break up? Did something happen with his friends? I need to know now but I have the sinking feeling in my gut that tells me I never will. "I'm g-going to make some coffee. Do y-you want any?" He stands up.

"Sure." I sigh and watch as he walks off to the kitchen. My question was probably too personal. I could already tell that he was apprehensive about letting me read his lyrics in the first place and now I've gone and pried into his personal life. I hope he doesn't kick me out.

A few more minutes of sitting still and silently thinking of ways to make it up to Graham, and he's back with two steaming mugs. He sets the lighter one in front of me saying that he hopes he made mine right. I take a sip. He did.

It's far too late for us to be drinking coffee, but neither of us stop to acknowledge that. I think back to this morning and begin to feel bad. I left Graham the minute he began to panic and I caused it. What kind of person does that make me? Obviously not a great one. 

"Y-You were touring b-before this. R-Right?" His voice surprises me. He's never the one to ask questions or even talk first. I think he usually lives by the 'don't speak unless spoken to' rule. 

"Yeah. We were supposed to be on our way to Sheffield after this. I guess they're still going." I chuckle. I think I can get over this minor setback fairly quickly. I didn't need them and they think that they don't need me. It all still sucks though because I've known them for basically my entire life. No matter how much one of them pissed me off, I don't think I would be able to just leave them behind in a big city they know nothing about. I still probably wouldn't be able to leave them, even after this.

"W-What's it like? Touring, I mean. I-I've a-always wanted to know." Graham sounds so innocent as he stumbles over his words. I personally think he's lucky he hasn't seen the shit that I have while on the road. I don't think he could handle that. 

"It's..." I pause and try to find the right words to describe it. "Fun until it's not." I finally say before adding in: "It might just be the people I was with though."

“What do y-you mean by th-that? If you don’t mind me asking.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leans forward to grab his cup of black coffee. He takes a sip and sets it back over the the green coaster.

“In the beginning everything was perfect. We were fresh out of high school and just enjoyed making music together.” I smile at the memories. “But then it all became heavy.”

“Oh... I-I’m sorry it all ended up th-this way.” He apologizes. He doesn’t even ask anything else, like that’s all he had to hear.

We sit in a bitter tasting silence for a few seconds before I ask him if he wants to go outside for a fag. He politely declines and I step out onto the balcony alone and stare at the city. I would live on Graham’s balcony if it weren’t so cold out. I love the view he has of London. I wonder if he’s ever painted this...

I feel bad for Graham. I can see his lack of interest in his own artwork and it’s depressing. I know he hates it and I wish he’d do something about it. I’ve known Graham for a day if you don’t count last night, and can already see that he has a kind heart and doesn’t deserve anything but happiness. It’s funny how I’m a terrible person, but I get to live his dream. I wish life was fair.

The stars are barely visible tonight and it makes me miss home. My parents own a house in a small town out in the middle of nowhere and I can remember going out into the back yard and laying on the trampoline, letting the stars and moon engulf me until I was nothing but a speck in the great scheme of things. It was terrifying yet amazing. Sometimes I wish I’d never left that place. I wonder what would become of me if I had found a nice girl and settled down when I had the chance. Would I be happy? No.

As much as I can say I hate not knowing where I’m going to end up the next morning or how I regret choosing this life, I would always come back to it given the chance. Maybe I’m just stubborn or stupid, but I would never trade this in for anything. I light my cigarette and breathe out my worries as I hear the door open.

“I thought you didn’t want to come out here.” I laugh lightly as I watch Graham shiver. It almost makes me want to give him my sweater. Actually, it does make me want to give him my sweater, but I feel like we don’t know each other at all and I would somehow find a way to make Graham go uncomfortably silent. I keep my sweater on.

“I changed my m-mind.” He shrugs as he takes out a cigarette from his pocket. I’m not sure if the stutter is from nervousness or his chattering teeth. Probably both.

I feel bad watching him shake uncontrollably and ignore my thoughts as I take off my sweater. “Take it.” I hold it out to him and he looks confused for a moment, saying that I’d be cold and that he really doesn’t need it but I make no move to put it back on. He reluctantly takes it and wraps it around his body as he blushes wildly. I find it cute that he blushes like that. I’ve grown tired of the relentless confidence that girls and boys always seem to have around me.

“Have you ever painted the city?” I voice my thoughts from earlier as I flick the ash from my cigarette over the railing.

“N-No. I never thought t-to I g-guess.” He shrugs as he looks out to the lights as well. “I d-don’t go outside nearly as m-much as I should.”

“It would be nice if you did paint this, Y’know? It’s quite the view you have.” I want to try and get Graham talking. I want him to be comfortable enough to start conversations with me. I also like the sound of his voice. It’s not too low but not too high and even though he’s shy, it sits at a perfect volume at all times.

“I s-suppose y-you’re right.” The lights reflect off his glasses and he breathes out some smoke. I’m freezing cold but I couldn’t care less. He looks nice in my sweater.

I see a few snowflakes fall and he does too. “W-We sh-should probably go inside.” He says as he watches me finish my cigarette. I nod my head to agree with him as he stubs his out in the ashtray. Some wind blows his hair off his forehead and his face scrunches in detest as he puts it back in place and walks back inside. I laugh to myself.

I could get used to being around Graham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo it’s a Damon chapter!
> 
> I honestly didn’t plan on giving Graham a stutter but it just kind of happened.


	6. Damon’s element.

(Graham's POV)

"Do you think dogs really know what we're saying?" Damon asks from my bed as he plays with the stitching on one of my pillows from my days of slight obsession with embroidery. I ignore him and try to decide if my latest commission needs more yellow or green added into it. I personally think green would be better, but Damon said yellow was the way to go. I'm not sure if I completely trust him with that if I'm being honest.

"I don't think they really understand us, Y'know? I think they just go by the tone of our voices. Oh, Graham! Can I get a dog?" I give him a look and his short burst of excitement turns back into pointless thoughts. "Never mind. You're right. I guess I probably wouldn't be able to take care of a dog." I nod.

Damon woke up this morning and hasn't been able to shut up. It's nearing 8pm now and we're both still wearing pyjamas. I kept his sweater last night and even slept in it, but he hasn't asked for it back yet. I hope he doesn't because it's really warm and comfortable. It smells nice too. like cologne and cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Hopefully he lets me keep it.

"Can we at least do something today?" He's been bored for hours now. He's expressed how excruciatingly bland this day has been on about seven different occasions in the past hour. Most normal people would also be bored if they were to watch a man stare at a half blank canvas for an almost infinite amount of time. He always has the option of exploring London on his own today, but whenever I tell him to do that, he insists on me joining him.

"No." I respond trying to sound indifferent because that's what I am. I could care less about going out and becoming a tourist for the day. I already got through that phase of living here. I used to leave the apartment a lot more than I do now. It was still shocking how long I could go before I saw the light of day, but it was nothing like how it is now. 

"Awe, c'mon Gra! We could go have a night out on the town!" I cringe at the thought of spending my time in some sleazy bar downtown while Damon has the time of his life chatting up whoever comes his way. I can picture him being that kind of person. I'd rather stay in and watch a movie tonight so it doesn't matter anyways.

"No." I repeat myself and run my brush down the length of the canvas, turning it a fresh yellow. Hmm. I guess Damon was right. Yellow does go better than green. He smiles when he sees it. I don't even know why I went with his choice, but I guess I don't regret it.

"You're no fun." He pouts as he crosses his arms over his chest. I don't want him to think I'm a loser, but I really don't think I can leave home today. Yesterday was enough interaction with people for the week. Damon's been really pushing my socializing limits in the past few hours and I don't know how much longer I can go without saying something about it.

I plop my paintbrush into a cup of murky water as Damon begins to rummage through my closet. "What are y-you doing?" I ask as I sit down on the foot of my bed and begin to watch him throw around my once nicely organized clothes. I probably won't get around to cleaning those up for a while but I stay silent.

"Looking for an outfit for you." He shrugs off my glares and tosses me a pair of tight jeans that have worn out tears on the knees and a white t-shirt that I didn't know I had. I look at the clothes with a scowl as I toss them back at him. "What do I-I need to be d-dressed for?" I question but I already know the answer. I really hope he doesn't do this to me.

"You're taking me to your favorite bar and we're getting shit faced." He smiles wickedly and I can feel myself go pale. He's going to try to make me go out more when he realizes that I barely know anything about the city I live in. I wish he could understand how hard it gets sometimes. I can't do this.

"I-I don't drink." I stumble out as he pushes the clothes back into my hands. At least I'm not lying to him. He just doesn't have to know that I only leave the comforts of my apartment less than once a month. I just won't tell him. Maybe he'll leave me alone if I go tonight though. Besides, he might get lost in the city if I don't take him. I shake the thoughts from my head. I barely know the city either so I wouldn't be much help if he got lost.

"Okay, then I can get shit faced and you can find a nice pretty lady to bring back here." He looks through my clothes again and begins to pull his shirt off and try on some of my striped shirts. I try my hardest not to look at his exposed skin as I hang up the clothes he gave me. He furrows his eyebrows as he watches me. "What are you doing?"

"I-If we're going out c-can I at least wear clothes th-that I like?" His face lights up and I almost smile. He tackles me down into a hug that almost sucks the air out of my lungs before quickly backing away and coughing awkwardly. I didn't know he wanted me to come that badly.

"Thank you Graham. I just didn't really want to go out alone tonight." He smiles a bit again. I realize that I've probably just made the worst decision of my life, but I can't bring myself to care when Damon looks at me that way. I grab a pair of straight leg jeans and the striped shirt Damon had balled up in his hands. He pulls the one he's wearing over his head and goes to the living room to look through his suitcase.

I've never been to a bar before. This is kind of exciting in a way, but I'm more than terrified. I close my bedroom door and change into the clothes I had picked for myself before looking in the mirror. I look so fucking uncool. I take my glasses off stare at my blurry reflection.

"Graham! Lets go!" Damon groans from the other side of the door. I put my glasses back on and rush to open the door. I don't know if I want to go anymore. He pulls me out of my apartment and down the hall, babbling on about how his parents owned chickens when he was growing up or something like that. I wasn't paying much attention. Dave smiles at us on the main floor when he sees us leaving.

It takes all I have in me not to break down as I step out of the apartment building. There are too many possibilities for tonight. What if we get hit by a car on our way there? What if Damon gets caught up in a bar fight? I wouldn't put it past him. What if someone actually tries to speak to me?

"We should get ice cream later. I haven't had some in forever." Damon sighs out as we walk down the lively nighttime London streets. He looks amazing with the streetlights and lamps reflecting off his skin. I wouldn't admit that to him though.

After a while, Damon realizes that I'm not much of a talker and we end up walking for a half an hour in silence. I almost wish he would start talking about the chickens again. This silence is far too awkward for my liking.

When we finally arrive at the bar, we walk in and sit at the counter. Damon orders us beer and I thank him. I've only ever drank wine before and never enough to even be close to getting drunk so drinking is even a new experience for me. I never knew how unadventurous I was until now. I feel incredibly uncomfortable being in the same place as this many people but I’m going to try and suck it up.

"So, what do you think about that bird over there?" Damon slyly motions over to a pretty blonde woman sitting across the room with her friends. She was very obviously staring at just him, but I'm not going to say anything about it. I steal a glance at her and decide that she's not what I'm looking for. Her hair is far too long and her body has too many curves. I shrug.

"Not m-my type." I stutter and his eyes widen as he stares at me blankly. Like somethings wrong with me.

"C'mon mate, she looks like she's everyone's type." He playfully elbows me and I roll my eyes. I'm not willing to lose my virginity to someone like that woman. She would vanish in the morning an I'd never see her again. If something like that were to happen, it would ruin me if I'm being honest.

"N-Not mine." I look over to the woman again to see her now staring me down with a dark lustful look in her eyes. I quickly look away and my heart speeds up slightly. I hope she doesn't think I want her or anything like that. I take a sip of my beer and try not to cringe at the taste. Who in their right mind would drink this for fun?

"What is your type then?" Damon asks as he buys a round of shots. I hope he doesn't expect me to help him drink those.

"I-I don't know. I g-guess I like sh-short hair, uhh more angles and m-muscle." I admit and he perks up and smiles before looking around the small crowds of people like he's searching for something. 

"You could have told me you were gay." He tells me as he continues to scan the room for something unbeknownst to me. I nearly spit out my beer as he says this. I end up coughing and choking on it. He asks if I'm okay. I nod.

"I'm n-not gay Damon." I say seriously as I catch my breath and play with a loose thread on my jeans. He gives me a look and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Do I really give off gay vibes? I know that I don’t have a preference for the most feminine of women, but it doesn’t mean that I’m gay.

“It’s okay if you are, Y’know. I wouldn’t judge you for it.” He pushes it as if I’ll come out to him or something. I take a shot class and down it before flinching a bit at the burning feeling of it sliding down my throat. This is stressful.

“B-But I’m not.” I correct him and he sighs before standing up. A panic sets in and fills my whole body and he quickly takes notice and tells me that he’s going to the bathroom. I let out a breath of relief and nod.

Within seconds of Damon being gone, the blonde woman from earlier takes his seat. I almost tell her that someone was sitting there, but I decided against it and desperately ignored her presence in hopes that she is waiting for Damon. I’ve never been a lucky person though.

“What’s your name?” She asks me and I can feel my palms begin to sweat and my heartbeat speed up. This is exactly what I didn’t want tonight. People always say that alcohol makes people more confident but I just feel slightly unsettled. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

“O-Oh um m-my name’s-” I get interrupted by her laughing and telling me to ‘spit it out’. I find her quite rude and I want Damon to hurry up, but I try my best to not seem socially inept even though I feel like I’m going to cry and being able to breathe is becoming an issue as of now. I finally stutter out my name and she scoffs.

“Graham is a stupid name.” Her lipstick gets on her teeth and straw as she sips on her drink and loudly chews on her gum. I blush, embarrassed as I look away. I feel so humiliated right now and I don’t even know why. I look around the room and spot Damon in a corner giving me a thumbs up. I sniffle subtly and curse him for ever even suggesting this. I don’t think he can see the tears in my eyes from over there but if he can, I hope he feels bad.

“How about we get out of here?” I’m brought back to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry about this chapter taking such a long timeeee.  
> In don’t even have an excuse.


	7. Graham would rather be home.

(Graham's POV)

"How about we get out of here?"

Jesus Christ this woman moves fast. She barely just learnt my name and now she wants to shag. It saddens me that sex can mean so little to someone. I feel like it's lost all meaning for the woman beside me. Wait, what's her name?

"I-I never caught y-your name." I guess this is an okay way to avoid the whole losing my virginity to a stranger thing that just might happen tonight because I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm not interested. I know she hasn't cared about how I react to the things she says but can put in the effort to be nice. It's the least I can do.

"Heather." She answers quickly and stares me down as she waits for my response to her question. I try to will my tears away again as I look around the room. It feels like there's a weight pushing down on my chest as I try to make it unnoticeable that I can barely get enough air in my lungs. She pays no attention to any of my actions though and continues to wait for me to answer. This is too much pressure. Too much. It's all too much.

I somehow manage to catch Damon's eye from across the bar where he was chatting up Heather's friends. His goofy smile fades as he realizes how panicked I am. If he can pick up on how uncomfortable I am, why can't she? He looks like he wants to get up, but one of the women sits on his lap and pulls him back into a conversation. He's not going to be any help to me.

"Graham? Hello?" Heather waves her hand in front of my face and I flinch in fear that she might catch my skin with one of her long finger nails. Being brought back to having her be the centre of my attention once again. It somehow makes it even harder to breathe. My face is probably turning red. People will stare. I feel like there's too much attention in me. I might just pass out.

"Oh. I guess- I um... well-" I try my best to stutter out a coherent thought but I cut myself off as Heather takes my hand and leads me off to the bathroom. No. I stop trying to hide my gasps for air and small cries the closer we get. She just complains about how sweaty my hand is as she pulls me along. I feel someone nudge my shoulder and a I look up to see Damon giving me a reassuring smile. I manage to stop and Heather turns around.

"Let's go home yeah? I don't feel too great." He takes my hand and squeezes it as he tries to pull me into the opposite direction from the bathrooms, to the exit. Heather tries to follow us to the door. "Mind if I come with?" She asks and I look up at Damon for help.

"I wouldn't mind love, but my mother is staying at our apartment at the moment and the walls are quite thin, aren't they Graham?" Just when I thought Damon would save me from more embarrassment he has to throw me back into the spotlight so I can make a fool out of myself. That was also the gayest excuse he could have given. She probably thinks he and I are dating now.

"Y-Yeah." I decide to go with a one word answer to minimize the chance of making it even more obvious that we just don't want Heather around. I hope she can finally take the hint. It takes another ten minutes of her finding a pen in her purse and writing her number on each of our hands before making us promise to call her. Damon promises and I just nod.

When we're finally standing outside in the cool night air, I break down and begin to cry as Damon watches on awkwardly. I try to hide my face away from him. I don't want to make him uncomfortable. But no matter how hard I try to stop crying, I can't.

"Are you okay?" Damon asks as he gently pulls my arms away from my face an stares at me with wide, concerned eyes. I just sniffle loudly and he wraps his arms tightly around me. "I'm so sorry I made you come out tonight. I'm sorry. You're safe now Gra. You're okay." He repeats himself over and over again as he runs his hand up and down my back.

I don't know why I'm crying right now. I know that Heather didn't really have ill intentions, but my brain is telling me otherwise. I hate how I can't go out and do normal people things like have one night stands or get drunk. Why do my thought's always get in the way. I had been nervous and anxiety filled before we even left my apartment. I feel so pathetic. I smile through my tears. "I'm fine. You said something about ice cream earlier?"

***

Damon and I ended up at a small frozen yogurt place because we couldn't find an ice cream shop. The walk here was filled with worried glances and me for once trying to keep a conversation alive because I don't want to answer any questions about what happened at the bar. Getting here was a strange experience to say the least.

"I wish I got blueberry." Damon scrunches his face when he shovels a spoonful of chocolate frozen yogurt into his mouth. I look down at mine and push it around in the small disposable bowl. I got strawberry. It's not as bad as I thought it would be but I still find it too sweet. I've never really enjoyed frozen yogurt. "Do you want mine?" I offer.

He nods and we switch. Chocolate actually sounds amazing right now. That's probably because it could be considered a comfort food and I am literally always in need of comfort. I eat a spoonful.

"So, about what happened back at the bar..." He trails off and glances at me cautiously through his lashes. I sigh and take a moment to pray that this won't be like yesterday morning. I was just starting to get used to Damon's constant talking and now he's probably going to leave again. I look away from him.

"I-It was nothing. I w-was just nervous a-and there was a lot of p-people and she was t-trying to take me to the bathroom... A-All of it w-was just a bit ov-overwhelming." I ramble on and hope he's able to somewhat follow. Here it comes. He's going to tell me that I'm a freak for being so scared and then he's going to leave. I take a deep breath and stare at my lap in anticipation.

Instead of hearing his chair screech on the linoleum and footsteps walking away, I feel a warm hand place itself on top of mine. I look up to see Damon with a sad smile painted onto his face. He rubs circles into my hand with his thumb in a soothing manner. "It's okay Graham." I smile back at him. Damon is good.

We finish the rest of our treats in silence before beginning the walk back to my apartment. It's actually quite nice out tonight considering that it was snowing yesterday. It's still really cold though. Damon stops in front of a liquor store. I give him a look. "Can I just pop in and grab some stuff? You have no alcohol in your apartment." He pleads lightly. I roll my eyes but nod, telling him to be quick as I lean against the building. I guess I could go in but I don't want to risk talking to anyone else.

He wastes no time and practically runs through the doors. I let out a tired sigh as I light a cigarette and blow the smoke upward and watch as the wind carries it somewhere unknown. It seemingly pulls my thoughts away along with it. I suddenly feel more empty and alone than I have for a long time. I focus on it and let it sink in. It's my fault I'm like this.

I don't know how lost I get in my own mind but I do know that Damon scares me when he taps on my shoulder to get my attention. "Let's go. You're probably freezing right now." He tugs me by the sleeve of my jacket in the direction of home. He's right. I probably am freezing but I sort of feel cut off from my body right now if I'm being honest.

"Can watch movies or something when we get home? I'm kind of in the mood to for some Disney." He grins wildly as he walks at a fast pace. I don't want to watch movies when I get home. I don't want to do anything when I get home.

We finally step foot into my apartment building and head to the elevator. No one is around on the main floor even though it's only half past eleven. I don't know the usual time when people stop working or daytime security goes home, but it makes sense that no one's here I guess.

As soon as I enter my apartment, relief washes over me like a big wave that takes me down. I feel exhausted. "Is it okay i-if I just go t-to bed? I-I'm really tired." I ask as I try to rub the sleepiness from my eyes. It's not a lie to get out of watching movies with Damon, I really want to just be in bed at the moment. I watch his expression fall and it makes me feel terrible. He's been nothing but kind to me and I can't even watch a movie with him. I'm awful.

"Yeah. It's been quite the night." He quickly covers up His disappointment and scratches the back of his neck. "See you in the morning?"

I nod before shuffling into my room. There are still clothes all the place that I should probably clean up, but I leave them how they are as I strip down to my boxers, take off my glasses, and grab a clean t-shirt from the floor. I pull it over my head before flopping down onto my bed and sucking in a large deep breath of air. It's good to be home.

I close my eyes and try to give myself up to sleep, but it never comes. I roll over and stare at my ceiling and try to count all the dents and marks I can find. There's no point to my actions, but I find out that there are six dents and two scuffs. There are probably more but my lights are off so it's hard to see little things like that.

I let out an exasperated sigh as I sit up and rub my eyes again. I feel bad just going to sleep when Damon wanted to hang out more. I feel guilty. 

I take The Little Mermaid DVD case from my bookshelf and timidly step into the living room before closing my bedroom door behind me. Damon's eyes peel from the tv that's playing some Animal Planet documentary and he smiles excitedly as his face lights up. He sees the movie in my hand and he's basically beaming. "I love that movie!" He exclaims. I smile nervously and set everything up before sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him. I don't want to sit too close and make him uncomfortable or anything. I notice that he’s folded the bed back up and I don’t know why he did that but I say nothing about it.

We fall into a slightly awkward silence as we watch. I constantly push my glasses up and fidgit around in my seat to distract myself from over thinking every little thing I've ever done. I look over to Damon and he seems like he's deep in thought. I don't ask him about it though.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke." He says as he stands up and itches his stomach lazily with a yawn. I nod and keep my eyes on the screen, trying to pay attention and not wanting to make eye contact. He swiftly makes his way out to the balcony.

He only takes a few minutes longer than I thought he would. When he comes back he doesn't take his seat back. Instead he sits down right beside me. I look at him and he just shrugs and gives me a boyish smile as he makes himself comfortable. He seems nervous. I hope I'm not doing that.

A few more minutes of the movie playing in the back of my thoughts, and I feel something on my thigh. I look down to see Damon's hand resting a few inches above my knee and my heart nearly stops. The way that he rests it there isn't friendly and comforting like yesterday. It's something more. I do my best to calm myself as I try not to focus on it as he stays right where he is. The more I forget about thinking, the more I start to enjoy the feeling of his hand where it is. I lean my head on his shoulder as my cheeks go red and my heart beats to a quicker pace.

Funny how this is working out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m making somewhat of a playlist for this fic? It’s mostly music I imagine Graham and Damon would listen to in my little au. (can I consider this to be an au?)


	8. A new friend.

(Graham's POV)

One week.

Damon has been living here for one full week. I wish I could say that it was wonderful and Damon and I get along perfectly, but we don't. I ask him to clean up after himself and he just throws more stuff around. Not only that, but he's been leaving me with all sorts of confusion when he walks around my apartment stark naked. 

I've decided that I need to ask someone about what to do about this. I could go to Grace but she is far too keen on getting me in a relationship. Alex might be a good option, but he and Damon speak quite frequently and he would probably warn him about how I'm unsure about our living situation and I would rather not make Damon feel unwelcome even if he doesn't pick up after himself and makes me sexually frustrated. That leaves me with either Jamie or Dave. Both of them are level headed and would most likely be willing to listen so it's really up to who's available. I think I'll speak to Jamie though because I feel like we should be better friends since he's been picking up my groceries for the past three years.

I'm wiping down the counter tops and sweeping the kitchen when I find a small pile of shiny plastic wrappers. I swear this will be the death of me. I might leave an empty coffee mug or book lying around, but I don't wallow in my own garbage. I set off to the living room.

"You could at least throw out your garbage-" And there he is again. I stop myself and attempt cover my eyes with an annoyed sigh. He sits cross legged on the pullout couch with his head in a book just shy of covering himself as he looks up and tilts his head innocently. "Hmm?" My breathing hitches as I let my eyes roam over him again.

"Can you p-please put s-some clothes on?" My voice is small and weak as I try to keep my attention on anything but him. I hear him sigh and the sheets begin to rustle a bit. He has a pair of grey boxers on when I look at him again. He stuffs a bookmark in his book and raises his eyebrows at me. "What were you saying?"

"Oh- um just, please th-throw out your garbage instead of l-leaving granola bar wrappers a-all over the counters." I mumble and try to will away the blush. Damon scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"That wasn't me." He crosses his arms as he pouts slightly. I huff and start making my way back to my bedroom but turn around before I go in, telling him that no one else lives here. His bare chest grabs my attention again though and I suddenly can't look away. He has an amused smirk on his lips and I can suddenly feel something grow in my jeans. Fuck.

I shift awkwardly and rush through the door before basically slamming it. I can't believe I just got an awkward boner from Damon. This is the kind of stuff that I'm talking about. He knows what he's doing and he's enjoying it. He's enjoying watching me crumble in front of him and it's messing with me to no end. I sit down on my bed quietly and take deep breaths. In the beginning I thought this was just a mistake on Damon's part, but now I'm thinking it's a mistake on mine. All of this is so humiliating.

"Graham? Are you okay? You seemed rather choked." He's attempting to hide his laughs. He saw it. I know he did. My face feels hot and I almost think I might cry. All of this is just reminding me of why I tend not to speak to anyone other than Grace. I take off my glasses and rub furiously at my eyes as I ignore the persistent knocking and whining coming from Damon. "C'mon Gra."

"P-Piss off." I attempt to sound angry and intimidating, but my nerves fail me. Sometimes I wish I could just get a sentence out and sound like a normal human being. I nervously tug at my own hair and pull my knees up to my chest.

"I didn't mean to offend you, alright? Please let me in." His playful tone is dissipating and now he's beginning to sound worried and stern. Like hell I'm letting him in right now though. He can't see me like this. I won't let him.

"Please g-g-go away." I stumble over my words as I stare at my lap. It's like my body hates me or something. I don't know why shit like this somehow always happens to me of all people.

"I'm not going to leave until you let me in. I just want to talk. I-I'm sorry if I made fun of you. It wasn't funny. That kind of thing thing happens sometimes and I shouldn't have pointed it out." He sounds sincere yet defeated. I stay silent. I don't think I could face him, let alone have a full on conversation with him. I just want him to go away right now. A few tears slide down my cheeks and I'm quick to wipe them away. I feel more weak than I have in a while.

I can hear his body slide down the other side of the door and I can almost picture him sitting there. His knees must be bent and his head is most likely resting on the door. Then I remember that he's only wearing boxers and my problem grows. Looks like I'm stuck in my room for a while. I pull my sketch book from my night table drawer before doodling mindlessly on the rough paper. 

My mind is stuck on the man outside my room though. I draw him. It's quite bad considering the only reference I have to go off is the picture I have of him in my brain I didn't know I had his face as memorized as I did. It fascinates and terrifies me. How much have I focused in on his features?

***

It had been nearly an hour of still silence and my pencil scratching the paper before I could hear Damon sigh from the other side of the door and get up. I almost forgot he was even there at this point.

"I-I'm gonna Do out for a few hours." He mumbles. "I want to talk when I get home though." I find myself wanting to open the door and invite him in. He sounds like he feels bad about making me feel embarrassed, but then I remember why it happened in the first place and I know that I'm not ready to look him in the eyes.

As soon as the door to the apartment closes, I'm peaking my head out the door and assessing my surroundings. Not much has changed other than Damon's bed being made neatly and a pile of his clothes being folded. I smile lightly to myself. He must have done it before he left.

There's a folded piece of paper by the phone that has most of the phone numbers I'll ever need. Jamie's is on there. I call him. He picks up after four rings. "Hello?"

"Uhh, hi Jamie." I mumble. This was stupid. I shouldn't have called. He's going to think I'm weird and overly dramatic and he's going to stop picking up my groceries because of it. 

"Graham? Is that you?" He asks and I calm my breathing enough to tell him yes. "How are you love? I haven't seen you since that day in the lobby." He sounds somewhat... happy to hear from me? That's definitely a first.

"I-I'm good. How a-are you?" I won't lie and say I'm not relieved that he's carrying out a conversation instead of sitting there and waiting for me to ask him what I need. I don't mind Jamie. The few conversations I've had with him were very pleasant.

"That's good. I've been wonderful. Why might you be calling on this fine evening?" His voice is calm and quite soothing. My breathing has slowed and I can't feel my heart beat against my ribcage as much anymore.

"About th-that. I-um was actually wondering if you might be able to give me some advice o-on a situation I'm in." I feel bad asking this of him, but I need someone to speak to.

"Of course. What is it?" I can hear the polite smile in his voice and I wonder why I waited so long to speak to Jamie. I never knew he was so nice. Well, I did know he was nice, but he's willing to listen to my mess of thoughts right now. He's practically a saint in my books.

"Oh, well um, I-I have a flat mate now a-and he's not picking up after h-himself and-" I stop myself from rambling on any further as I think of the consequences of telling him that Damon is making me question my sexuality. What if he's homophobic? I doubt he is considering the comic he told me he was writing when I had first met him, but there's still fear bubbling deep in my chest.

"And?" He pushes. It's not in a prying way, he just sounds like he wants me to finish my sentence. My eyes focus on the folded clothes and now I also realize that Damon's put away a few of my books. I do have to admit that he can be sweet when he wants to be. Even if that was only twice out of our whole week spent living together.

"He's making me f-feel things..." I trail off and squeeze my eyes shut tightly in anticipation.

"Hmm. Have you tried talking to him? About the garbage and the way he makes you feel, I mean." He's so nonchalant about it, as if I didn't just basically come out for the first time ever. I think back on my life and realize that I haven't really liked many women and the one's that I have liked always had masculine qualities about them. Maybe Damon was right with his assumption when we were at the bar.

"I tried to bring it up to him today b-but I got a little- um side tracked?" It comes out as more of a question than I intend it to and he laughs from his side of the line. I think I might be beginning to regret calling him for this, but this could also be one of the best decisions I've ever made because now I have someone to speak to other than Grace.

"Graham dear, how on earth do you get side tracked while confronting someone about garbage?" He asks and I roll my eyes and play with the cord that's connected to the phone.

"I-I just did, okay?" I heave out a sigh to show that I'm getting slightly annoyed. I don't think he cares all that much that I'm irritated with him, but I can do as I want.

"Strange, but okay." He chuckles. "The only advice I can really give you is to be assertive and make him know what you want and when you want it. If you like him though, tell him when you feel comfortable enough to."

I give myself a moment to think of what would happen if I were to ever be considered assertive and I laugh. Even though Jamie is probably right, I know I will never take charge with anything. It's just not who I am.

"Thank you, Jamie." I say timidly. "I really didn't know who to go to." I know I've definitely made the right decision with him now though.

"Any time. I'm serious Graham, if you need anything don't hesitate to call. I'm always here." I'm nearly in tears by the time he finishes his last sentence. I think he truly is here for me.

"I will." I promise before we exchange our goodbyes and hang up our phones. Now all I have to do is wait for Damon and then my life might have some order in it once again. I hope it can at least. Damon doesn't seem like the most orderly person and he absolutely terrifies me because of it.

I sit on the pull out bed and turn on the tv. Usually I can sit and watch until my eyes are bleary and red, but I can't sit still right now. I'm anxious and nervous about what's going to happen when my flatmate comes home. I hope it won't end in a fight. I hate being yelled at with a burning passion. I settle myself by picking at my cuticles.

I can do this. I have to do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this is so slow moving, but just know that there will be some gramon by chapter 10 (I think. We'll see how I feel that day.)


	9. Unlikely turn of events.

(Damon's POV)

I don't like this feeling. I don't like this pit in the bottom of my stomach that's pulling me all the way down to the ground. Graham is mad at me and it's really hard to think I was so stupid. I know he's shy and I know he deals with things differently than I do. I shouldn't have made fun of him.

On the bright side, at least I know that he's attracted to me. I've been lounging around the apartment naked and wearing the tightest clothes I have in my suitcase to try and get his attention. There are no doubts that Graham is extremely attractive and I know that I shouldn't be trying to sleep with him because I need a place to stay, but I can't help it. Everything he does drives me insane in a good way.

I step outside the apartment building and sink into my jacket a little more. It's a lot colder than I expected it to be, but I can manage until I get to the bar. I made sure to clean up a bit before I left as somewhat of a peace offering. I focus on the cloud leaving my lips in the chilly air and it reminds me of cigarettes and how Graham smokes them. It's like he's breathing his life away. I guess he is, but he makes a point to enjoy every second of it. I'm worried about him. Something's wrong but I know he's never going to tell me. I need to find the bar.

I try to retrace my steps and remember what turns we had to take and what streets we went down to get there. Finally, I'm standing in front of the dimly lit building with a half finished cigarette hanging loosely from my bottom lip. I throw it into a pile of snow and carry myself in, taking a seat in the exact same spot as last time.

What surprised me most about coming here again was the fact that Heather was here as well, sitting in the exact same corner as last time, tucked behind a few of her friends. I duck my head with the intent of her not noticing me. It's not that I don't want to speak to her, it's just that she's not Graham. I order myself a drink as an older man sits beside me and begins to complain to the bartender about married life and how hard it is. 

"Why don't you get a divorce?" I ask him. It's so simple. He sounds as if he absolutely hates her and he's not even drunk yet. I don't understand why people over-complicate everything. It just makes their life harder than it has to be.

"It's not that easy mate." He pauses to sigh. "We've built a life together. We have kids. You wouldn't understand." And there it is. He thinks I'm nothing but a child. I don't particularly like being talked down to if I'm being honest. I'm not a teenager. I understand relationships and how they work and I also understand that life only gets better for you if you get rid of the negatives.

"It is that easy. You both get your share of money and you're off. Do joint custody of the kids and the most you'll speak to her is when you have to pick them up." I shrug. It's the obvious answer to what he needs.

"Even though I might sound like I hate her, my wife and I love each other. We don't always show it and sometimes I do want to divorce her, but I can't just up and leave like that. We've spent too much time together for being apart to feel natural." He tells me and I roll my eyes. The way he was talking about her earlier could have had me fooled. You don't talk about someone you love like that.

I turn around to look at Heather again and she finally notices me and motions me over to her. Picking up my drink, I drift towards her and the large group she's standing with. I remember a few of these girls from last time I was here but their names don't come easy to me. Heather wraps her arms behind my neck as soon as I'm close enough.

"You never called, you dolt." She giggles airily as I hold her waist. Before that man had left me annoyed, I was only focused on staying out of the house so Graham wouldn't be angry with me anymore, but now I need to let off some steam and I know just the way I'm going to do it.

"Sorry about that love. I've been right busy y'know. I'm here now though." I smirk as she runs her fingers through my hair. I need to get a lot more drunk for this to be enjoyable. I down my drink and order two more. One for myself and one for Heather. I want to drink away the horrible feeling that's still in my chest from having Graham be mad at me and the hesitation to sleeping with the woman clinging to me.

She happily accepts the drink and we sit and talk. She's just about the most uninteresting person I've ever had a conversation with. She seems like she's trying to brag about her lifestyle, but she needs to remember that we're both sitting in what might be the sleaziest bar in all of London. Something's obviously not adding up with her. I roll my eyes as she tells me about her weekend in Barbados with her ex boyfriend. That's why she's here.

"And then we went to the ocean an went snorkeling. There were so many fish, you just have to get over there one day!" I finally start paying attention to the conversation again just as it starts to come to a close. I go to order myself another drink and she looks at me expectantly. I sigh and order her a drink as well. I cringe slightly as I peer into my wallet. I'm starting to run a bit low on money. I should probably get a job if I want to start paying Graham rent.

I need to remember that living with him is only going to be temporary. This past week has been nice but I have to get back on the road or scrape up enough money to buy a plane ticket back to my parent's house. I'm happy that Mike was at least nice enough to dump my suitcase in Alex's apartment before leaving without me. He stole the vodka I had hidden in the bottom compartment though. Asshole.

"Do you want to go somewhere more... private?" I have to most charming smile I can muster on my lips as I ask. She smirks and her eyes darken. She was waiting for me to ask. Graham must have made her realize how up front she was being. He was very obviously uncomfortable around her.

"My apartment is just down the road." She mentions as she subtly licks her lips. Her red lipstick stays in place but I worry about it staining my skin. It's quite embarrassing having to walk around with red marks and stains all over your neck. I might be a complete slag but I'm not proud of it.

"What are we waiting for then?" I ask and she smiles wildly as she grabs my arm and we walk to her apartment. It's not a nice walk due to the fact that it's cold and we're not exactly in the safest part of town. Every time we walk by an alleyway, I hold her a bit closer because it's terrifying. I can barely get a foot through the door before she's all over me. I fake a moan when she touches me.

We have sex. It's not amazing. I didn't really enjoy myself. She acted like I gave her a once in a lifetime orgasm but I could see that we were both disappointed. I could care less if my performance didn't suit her needs though. She cuddles into my chest and falls asleep when it's all over and I map out my escape plan because there's no way I'm going to be here when she wakes up.

Getting out of her grips proved difficult, but I managed to do it and scavenge around her small living space for my clothes. There's a pit of guilt in the bottom of my stomach as I pull on my sneakers and I feel dirty and wrong as I walk home. Don't be fooled, the walk of shame is something I've had to do many times, but now I share a home with Graham and he's going to know and it will all just be awkward. I'm still a bit drunk so I somehow push all my thoughts away completely and focuse on getting home safely.

It's freezing cold out now and I have no idea which way I have to go to get back to Graham's apartment. I can't even seem to find my way to the bar again. This is bad. This is really bad.

I walk around aimlessly in search of familiarity and I do eventually come across the frozen yogurt place Graham and I went to last time we were at the bar. I smile to myself as I think about that night and walk into the shop. It got off to a rough start, but it eventually turned into us basically cuddling and watching movies. I kept a bit of distance because making Graham uncomfortable is the last thing I'd ever want to do, but it looked like he was enjoying himself.

I order a cup of strawberry frozen yogurt and sit down in the shop to eat it. Escaping the cold right now is just my number one priority. It's kind of stupid that I decided to get something cold but I think I remember how to get home from here so it won't be too long until I'm under the covers on Graham's pullout couch.

I take a few more wrong turns but I finally get home. I trudge straight to the bathroom and strip down to my boxers, making sure I throw my dirty clothes in the hamper to not upset my flatmate more than I already have. I hope Graham doesn't hate me now. I've been annoying him even though I know how upset he could get. I feel like a dick. He's so kind and all he gets in return is me walking around naked and leaving a mess of his apartment.

As I wash my face, I take note of my bloodshot eyes and pale skin. I look terrible. How does anyone in their right mind think I'm attractive? It doesn't really matter though. I need to stop hooking up with random people anyways and if I keep up with this appearance, no one will want to talk to me.

My bed seems like my only saving grace right now. I flick the light switch off before exiting the bathroom but I notice the TV is on and blaring light over a very obvious lump under my covers. I pull them back to find Graham fast asleep and I mentally awe at the sight of him all curled up and soft like that. I wonder why he's in my bed but I really don't care. I gently take his glasses off. He probably just wanted to watch a movie and got cold or something. I press a light kiss to his forehead before pulling the covers over him again and turning off the TV.

Where I'm going to sleep is a complete mystery but Graham's room is most likely off limits and the only other place I could sleep is on the loveseat, but I don't really fancy a sore neck at the moment so I tuck myself in on the pullout couch next to what might possibly be the most beautiful man I've seen. I hug a pillow to resist wrapping my arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a Damon chapter!
> 
> Is everyone who reads this alright with smut? There will probably be a bit of it somewhere in this but not until later.


	10. In which Graham starts to catch on.

(Graham's POV)

Warmth. That's what I feel when I wake up. It's not the kind of warmth that makes you want to tear off your blankets and cool off but it's the kind that make's you want to stay where you are forever and that's what I plan to do, until I notice an arm lying across my waist that is.

I open my eyes to be met with a very blurry Damon and I realize that my glasses are gone and I have no recollection of ever taking them off in the first place. I sit up and rub at my eyes before blinking rapidly to make sure that this is not a dream. When I open them, Damon is still there, sleeping. He looks almost angelic like this. Funny how I say the exact opposite while he's awake.

I stumble to the coffee table at the foot of the bed and manage to find and put on my glasses. "Goodmorning." I hear Damon's raspy morning voice from behind me and I struggle to find it in me to turn around and face him. I still haven't really gotten over yesterday if I'm being completely honest. That was just way too traumatizing. But somehow, I go against my better judgement and turn around.

"W-Where di-did you go l-last night?" I ask. Not the best way to greet someone in the morning, but all the confidence I had in me when I wanted to talk to him originally has drained and now I'm a nervous mess that just wants answers.

"I thought I'd get out of the house for a few hours, y'know? I felt bad. I'm sorry about yesterday by the way." He tells me and I just nod. A few hours would have been fine, but he was gone all night and he never told me where he was going or what he was doing. I was so scared that he had gotten hurt or he just wasn't coming home.

"You could have at least t-told me w-where you were going." I mutter as I carry myself to the kitchen. He follows closely behind me and when I turn around to face him, he's nervously playing with his hands and picking at his hangnails. What could he possibly be nervous about?

"I didn't think you wanted to see me." He sighs as he looks down at his feet. I didn't want to make him feel bad. I'm deciding now that I never want to make him feel bad for anything because watching him stare at the ground with a sorry and guilty expression on his face is too much for me.

"I-" I really didn't want to see him at first yesterday, but now I'm just happy he's okay. I'm glad to see him. It kind of scares me how drastically different my emotions can be towards Damon. I'm worried that I'm beginning to develop feelings for him and that all this nervousness isn't just coming from me wanting his body. "I was w-worried about y-you." I might as well just admit it so he can laugh at me all he wants for caring. He hugs me instead.

I flinch and tense up but he continues to hold me until I melt into his touch and even wrap my arms around him. He smells like stale cigarettes and beer and I want to tell him to take a shower but this is a pleasant hug and I wouldn't want to ruin the moment. He rubs smooth circles into my back as I finally realize that this is really happening. I fight myself from slipping into a smile.

When he pulls away I manage to hide any trace of joy from my face and I think it works because Damon frowns a bit but I watch him brush it off. "Any plans for today?" He asks as he crosses his arms and leans back on the granite counter top. I search the cabinets for coffee filters only to realize that there's none left. I shake my head in response to Damon's question as I grab two tea bags and coffee mugs and set up the kettle.

"Wonderful! We can go see the new Disney movie that came out!" He cheers with a smile that reaches his eyes. My mind wanders and I think of what were to happen if this were going to be a date. I blush and avoid looking at him as I try to shake the embarrassing thoughts out of my head.

"That would be nice." I say politely because it would. I imagine holding his hand or him gently gripping my thigh and it causes me to blush even harder. He makes me a lot more nervous than I usually am and for once I don't mind it all that much. I think I need to tell him that I feel some kind of attraction towards him but I know I'll second guess myself and I won't. But what if I tell him now? I mean, there's no harm in being honest with him and the worst that could happen is that he moves out. That would suck but I'd get through it, right?

"Hey Damon?" I ask and he nods as if telling me to go on. "I-I just w-wanted to say th-that-" The kettle begins to whistle and my chance is gone. I turn the stove off and pour two cups of tea and make Damon's just the way he likes it. As I do this, I try to calm my breathing and anxiety but nothing really works.

"What were you going to ask me?" I look up to see Damon's almost hopeful expression. I look away.

"Just to clean up after yourself." And it's gone. My chance is officially gone and in the trash. Damon's face falls as he mumbles out an 'oh' and takes his tea into the living room where he sits on his bed and turns on the TV. I head towards my room.

"Are you not going to come sit and hang out for a bit?" I end up watching Animal Planet with Damon for the rest of the morning.

***

"I'm really excited. Alex said it had really catchy music." Damon tells me as we walk through the movie theater parking lot to the 5pm showing of 'The Lion King'. I could really care less about the movie right now though because I'm busy obsessing over whether this is a date or not.

The front area is packed and that's when I remember that cinemas are quite popular spots, especially on weekends. I have no idea why I didn't think there would be large amounts of people, but there is and I'm more than nervous. We make are way through the crowd and I latch onto Damon's arm as an attempt to not lose him in the sea of people. He doesn't complain as my grip becomes uncomfortably tight and he doesn't complain when I push my body into his. I'm not doing any of this consciously and I'm terrified.

"Are you okay Gra?" He whispers into my ear as if he doesn't want to draw attention to us. Thank the lord for Damon. I still notice the dirty looks from people as we pass by and I try my hardest to ignore them.

"Just nervous. I forgot how many people went to the cinema." I chuckle to myself. Last time I was in a movie theater was my twelfth birthday when I went with my parents. It was an absolute shit show for me and I cried in the bathrooms but I think they enjoyed it. Hopefully it will be more fun this time around. Maybe Damon will want to sit in the back, tucked away from everyone. I can only dream.

I pay for our tickets and popcorn as Damon is almost out of money. He keeps apologizing to me all the way to our seats in the very back corner. The theater is packed full of snotty children and their stressed parents as well as a few couples and a large group of teenagers who I can already see to be a headache. I sink down in my seat and wish for it to swallow me whole as advertisements for other movies play.

Damon slips his hand into mine and the entire world stops completely for a few moments as the lights dim and I squeeze his hand to make sure he's really there holding it. I see him smile out of the corner of my eye and my heart melts. The movie begins and we stay just how we are.

Just as I suspected, the rest of the people watching the movie became a problem at about half way through when one of the children began screaming and crying. My head began to hurt because the movie was already out but the child made everything worse. I lean my head on Damon's shoulder without even thinking and he moves to put his arm around me.

When the movie finishes and the lights turn on, I'm disoriented and tired but I can still feel Damon's arm behind my back and I almost don't even want to leave yet but we're receiving dirty looks from the very obviously Christian parents and I can see the group of teenagers look at us and whisper to each other. I sit up and let go of Damon's hand before pulling on my coat and pulling him behind me to make a quick exit. Pushing through groups of people proved to be difficult but it didn't stop me from getting all the way through the parking lot and to the street where I hail a taxi.

Once we're comfortably seated in the taxi, Damon begins to speak. "Why are you in such a rush?" He asks with a slight smirk. I roll my eyes and stare out the window at the gloomy London skies. It gets dark so quickly and it's only November. I decide to tell Damon the truth.

"I was anxious and people were staring." I try to shrug it off because it's nothing. I should be able to go out and have a good time but it's nearly impossible because I'm like this. It angers me. It's like I always have to make every situation about me because I feel uncomfortable. I wish I could stuff down my awkwardness like everyone else but I'm not like that. Damon nods and offers an understanding smile. I really wish he understood.

"I still have that alcohol that I bought last week." He reminds me as the taxi turns down our street. I look over and raise my eyebrows. I've never been right drunk before and I think that now is as good of a time as ever for that. I've been so stressed out. Maybe it will help.

I pay the driver and we into the apartment building. Alex is in the lobby and ends up starting a full on conversation with Damon as I sit and wait for them to finish. They talk about nothing for nearly half an hour but Alex has to meet up with Dave for drinks so he leaves.

When we get up to my apartment, I do my usual routine of sighing in relief and stretching myself across my couch (which is Damon's bed at the moment) and taking in the familiar surroundings of my home. "You look comfortable." Yes Damon, I am very comfortable.

I open my eyes to see him standing above me with two wine bottles along with two cups in his hands. They're normal cups because I've never had a reason to buy wine glasses.

He sits close beside me and turns on the TV as he fills the two cups to the brim. He takes a small sip of mine so he doesn't spill it when he passes it to me. I take a sip and my face scrunches at the sour taste up I power through it as I just want to get drunk. I'll get used to the taste soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!
> 
> I kind of hate this but I wanted to get something out on Christmas. I have big plans for the next chapter and also Christmas is happening a lot later in this because yea.


	11. Me, Damon, and the woman in the staff room.

(Graham's POV)

"Damon stop!" I laugh as he strums my guitar that is terribly out of tune and sings a song that he no doubt wrote. It's catchy enough, but the screech of my old telecaster ruins it in a way I could never begin to explain. We're awfully drunk. Both wine bottles were finished hours ago and the two of us are now giggly messes.

"Oh come on Graham! You know you want to join in." He shoots me a smirk and I roll my eyes before sliding off the bed to lay on the living room floor. I stare up at him and admire the curve of his nose as he focuses on tuning the guitar. New Order plays loudly from my record player as I watch the world spin around me. Why was I so nervous about getting drunk before this? If I knew how great this was, I would have gone to high school parties and enjoyed my youth.

"Why are you on the ground?" Damon asks as he peers over the armrest of the pullout couch. He's trying to contain his laughs as I smile lazily at him and tell him that the floor is cold and I'm hot. "Yes, yes you are." He chuckles and strums a C chord. It sounds good now. He tells me to turn off the music because he wants to show me something. I do that before stumbling back to the bed and collapsing beside his legs.

I watch his fingers move over the frets expertly as he plays an intricate pattern of notes. I grin as the song becomes recognizable. Damon's not very good at playing. "Can I see that?" I ask as I nod towards the guitar. He nods and passes it over to me. I don't sit up as I try to remember how to play the song. Humming along, I play 'This Charming Man'. Damon starts to sing and I finally realize just how beautiful his voice is. He smiles through the lyrics as I attempt to tear my eyes away from him and focus on hitting every right note.

We finish the song and Damon begins laughing again. So do I. I sit up and pull the blankets over my body before tossing Damon the remote. "No, I don't want to watch TV." He whines as he drapes himself over me. "Let's get pizza."

"I'll call it in." I tell him as I start to get up. He stops me by pulling me back down to him. 

"Let's go out and get it." He grins wildly. I don't even think twice when I say yes. We're out the door with our coats and winter accessories on in less than five minutes. The cold winds bite at my face and it's snowing again. The weather hasn't been great lately but I ignore the urge to complain about it. I'm in a good mood for once in my life and I'll be damned if I ruin it over a little bit of cold.

Damon leads the way as we walk by the lit up stores and restaurants. Sometimes I love living so close to the downtown area. "Where are we going." I ask as I trip over myself behind Damon. He stops abruptly as I run into his back. He turns to look at me and his face breaks into a smile and he giggles like he's just heard the funniest joke told by man. "I don't know." He responds. That's when I remember he doesn't live in London.

"I don't know where any pizza places are so can we just go home? I'm freezing my balls off here." I admit and he shakes his head, telling me that he still wants to go out somewhere. I let out a dazed sigh as I pull him down the street over to a calmingly decorated caffe. Lucky for us it's open all night for studying college students and poor souls who work night shifts. I make sure to save us a seat by the window before shuffling up to the front and ordering. I get Damon a sugary decaf coffee that I know he'll like and I get a tea. I'm surprised that I haven't been stuttering all that much tonight and I'm not even nervous when I buy our drinks.

I turn around to see Damon with his head down on the clean table. I carefully place the cup in front of him and he lifts his head before quickly taking it and gulping down a large sip. He realizes his mistake as soon as it happens and his tongue falls from his mouth as he tries to expose it to cold air. "Ow." He whines as his eyebrows knit together. "I burnt my tongue." His speech is slurred and I don't know if it's from the alcohol or his painful burn.

I shrug and take the plastic lid off my disposable cup to let it cool a bit. "You should have waited." I smirk. He jokingly pouts and takes the lid off his drink as well. I rub my right eye under my glasses begore looking down at my hand to see the stubborn brushstrokes I had left there earlier in the week that just hadn't washed away yet. Swirls of gold and purple run up my thumb and wrist. I really need to stop colour testing on my arm.

"What did you think of the movie today?" Damon suddenly asks with a slight urgency like it's the most important question he's ever going to get the chance to ask. I raise my eyebrows and take a small sip of my tea, not burning my mouth as I do so.

"I liked it. It was basically Hamlet but with lions. The animation was really beautiful as well." I point out and Damon looks down at his drink deep in thought for a moment and I find it funny enough to laugh at. It's probably just because I'm drunk.

"Like Shakespeare Hamlet?" He asks and I nod. His confusion only grows deeper before he nods thoughtfully. "I guess you're right." He concludes as he lifts his now cool coffee to his bottom lip and drinks a small amount. He smiles at the pleasant taste and tells me it was a good choice to order it for him. I confidentially tell him that I know. He laughs at me but I can't find a reason to care. Sober me probably would have cried.

A comfortable silence falls over us as we both stare out the window into the London night sky and listen to the only employee working clean the bulky coffee machines. As I blink back overplayed phrases I want to use on Damon, I realize the strange feeling consuming my body. It feels like I've entered another plane of existence, like there's no other lifeforms outside this coffee shop. Like me, Damon and the woman in the staff room are the only people left on earth. No one walks by the large window. No birds or stray animals can be seen outside. It's strange how something as simple as getting coffee can be so private and exhilarating.

Damon looks beautiful in the dim lights above us and his reflection can be seen in the window. He seems happily dazed and ready for sleep. I just want to hold him here with me forever. I never want this feeling to end. "Do you want to go home?" He looks over to me now and I latch onto the word home. My home is his home. It's our home. Who knew something like this could grow in a week.

I look around me and weigh my options before looking back to Damon he probably just wants to go to bed right now and I suppose I do too. It's been a long, eventful day for me at least. I nod and stand up. We take our drinks and wave off the bored looking employee who's behind the counter again.

One cigarette is lit and shared between Damon and I. I told him it's the only one I had left but he doesn't need to know that it's not. I just want an excuse to share more with him without getting personal. I may be drunk, but I know well enough not to spill my guts to him. The cold gets to me a bit more than it did on our way here and I curl in on myself slightly as an attempt to retain warmth. Damon wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his side. I smile thankfully and he looks away with a worried expression tracing his perfectly sculpted features. "What's wrong?" I ask him. He responds with nothing.

Our silence grows tense as I untuck myself from under his arm. The cold air freezes me once again but I don't care. I've immediately sobered up as I fold my arms over my chest and bitterly train my eyes on the pavement in front of me. I must have done something wrong. I'd have to have done something to make his expression change that quickly with just one look. Did he finally realize that I'm nothing special? I hope not.

The worst part of all of the thoughts of losing Damon, is that they're making me realize what I actually feel. I think I like him. Not for his body like I had originally thought, but I like him. I know it's only been a week and this is just some form of infatuation that may pass as time goes on but I don't want it to pass. I don't want time to go on.

The elevator ride up to my floor was by far the most awkward moment of our whole journey home and now that I'm here again, I realize that my apartment shows no trace of the joy that had existed inside it only hours ago. All that's left are the empty wine bottles, the mess of blankets on Damon's bed and my long forgotten guitar leaning up against the love seat and I guess I'm not as sober as I thought I was because I'm unable to even get to my room before tears are streaming down my face.

Tonight I experianced the most happiness I have since I was a child and it's over. It's gone as if it were never there and I hate it. I miss it. Everything had gone so well and I still found a way to ruin it just by being there. I sniffle loudly and it obviously attracts Damon's attention because he's by my side within seconds.

"What happened? Are you okay? P-Please don't cry Graham." He panics as I wipe at my cheeks. It's useless to even clear away my tears because more just replace them.

I don't even know what to say to him. He probably already doesn't think very highly of me with how pathetic I am and now I'm stood in front of him sobbing because I've ruined something. I put myself here, so why is he forced to deal with it. I cry harder and his concerned expression only deepens. Now he's worried because of me for the second time tonight. Great.

"I-If it was something I did, please t-tell me. I w-want to make it better, o-or I at least want to try. P-Please tell me." He pleads and his stutter almost resembles mine. His eyes are wide and his voice is shaky. He makes me want to just curl up into a ball and never leave my room but then I remember that I wouldn't get to see his face if I pulled something like that.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. My eyes desperately try to avoid him but I'm torn between wanting read his emotions and steering clear of getting hurt. My brain jumbles everything together and I say the first thing that comes to my mess of a mind. "I like you." My hands fly over my mouth as soon as it's said, but the damage had been done.

"What?" Confusion is the only thing evident on Damon's face and I quickly try to figure out an exit plan to get to my room while he processes what I just said, but I'm stuck right where I am as if I've dried into wet cement. He looks baffled and I can't look away.

"I-um y'know, l-like you as like, more than a-" He knows what I mean because he breathes the answer out of me. It takes me more than a few seconds to realize that he's kissing me, but I kiss back. Worlds are conquered, stars align, planets collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they finally kissed!  
> I'm surprised I finished writing this so quickly because usually I take a week in between updating this.  
> Also, I made a tumblr. It's mainly for updates about new chapters of this and my other fic that I just started writing but it's emily-is-a-rat if anyone wants to check that out.


	12. Sort it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> I didn't mean to take a month to write another chapter but it's been ROUGH and I have another exam today :(

(Graham's POV)

The kiss only lasts a few seconds but it ends all too fast. "That was my first kiss." I stutter out in astonishment. It's everything I could have hoped for. Damon's face falls when I let the words tumble past my lips though. Did I say something wrong?

"I'm so sorry Graham! I just- I thought that.." Damon is freaking out now and he's pacing back and forth along the carpeted livingroom floors. I furrow my eyebrows as I watch him. "I ruined your first kiss, didn't I?" He asks, not even attempting to hide the pained look of guilt on his face as he takes a seat on the foot of his pullout bed. I sigh and sit next to him before gently leaning my head down on his shoulder. His breathing is uneven and his hand shakes when I hold it.

"Damon, it's okay. We're okay." I don't stutter at all. It takes a lot of focusing but I can't calm him down if I sound equally as nervous. "I'm kind of happy you were my first k-kiss." I slip up towards the end but I hope he sees my smile and knows that I'm telling the truth.

"You mean that?" He asks and I let out a laugh and nod eagerly, telling him that I wouldn't have wanted it to be with anyone else after lifting my head from his shoulder to look at him. A brightness takes over his face that makes him easily comparable to the sun itself. He wraps his arms around my side and I lean into his touch.

"What now?" I ask. Damon's staring right into my eyes and it doesn't make me uncomfortable or want to look away. I find myself getting lost in his stare as I wait for him to respond. I never knew eyes could be so nice or blue.

"Whatever you want." He finally says as he runs my fingers through my already messy hair. I don't know what I want, but for the first time in my life I'm not scared for what's next. I'm ready to face whatever comes next as long as Damon's by my side. Hopefully he's there for a long time.

"Let's just stay here forever." I suggest as I lay down and pull Damon with me. I make myself comfortable and put my head on his chest and he lazily plays with the fabric on the back of my t-shirt. 

"I like that idea." He snickers as he kisses the top of my head. "Do you know where the remote is?" He asks and I look up and shake my head. "I bought the TV at a pawn shop. It didn't have a remote." I tell him.

"Ugh. I don't want to get up." He groans and throws his head back into the soft blankets haphazardly laid across the bed. Damon's made an effort to clean up after himself but he's still not the best at it. I really don't understand how someone doesn't know how to properly make a bed but I can live with it.

I take it upon myself to get up and turn on the TV. There's not much on because it's quite late, but we only need some background noise. Crawling back into Damon's side, I let him rest his hand on my hip. He gently grips at the skin and watches the shitty cartoons playing. I smile to myself and focus on his unchanging content expression. I want to kiss him but I'd probably find a way to make it awkward.

The longer we sit, the longer I think. Good thoughts are the only thing that crowd my brain. I think about Damon and I sharing sleepy mornings and tired nights together. I can picture him reading peacefully as I paint. I can see a future with him. That is until I remember he's really only staying here temporarily.

I can't believe I forgot. My mood instantly shifts into a numb grey feeling. He'll probably be gone as soon as he has enough money to do so and I don't think I'll be ready for it. I've gotten a taste of bliss and now I'm going to have to let it go. He's going to have to go home at some point but I hope he stays.

"W-When are y-you going h-home?" I ask. I need to know so it's not just some unexpected event that happens at the worst time.

"Are you that eager to get rid of me already?" He jokes and I become a panicked stuttering mess. "I'm kidding Gra, I'll probably have to go home at some point to grab some stuff but I quite like living here if I'm being honest." He grins and I let go a sigh of relief.

"I like you living here too." I say as I subtly push my face into the crook of his neck. There's still a small bit of alcohol running through my system and it's probably giving me the courage to let myself be this close to him but I enjoy it while I can. Being nervous all the time is exhausting. I just want things to stay still for me once and right now, they are.

Damon's heartbeat is steady and rhythmic. It makes me think back to when I listened to him sing through the floor at Alex's party. Every song was loud and had quite the punch to it, but Damon's voice always brought it back to center, even when he was blackout drunk.

The TV blares brightly and Damon is now falling asleep. I don't want to go to my own bed so I manage to settle myself in even more into the uncomfortable bed. We'll have to find a better bed for him soon because this cannot be good for his back. Despite my thoughts about Damon's wellbeing though, I manage to fall into a dreamless sleep. I hope Damon will still be here when I wake up.

***

"Graham, it's almost noon." I wake up to Damon flicking my nose. I peel my eyes open and take note of my pounding headache. Damon is fully dressed and has his fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. My mouth is dry and the light is hurting my eyes so I roll over and press my face into a pillow. It smells like Damon.

"And?" I ask. I'm self employed. I can wake up whenever the hell I want. It's one of the many reasons I enjoy being an artist. I'm barely obligated to do anything.

"C'mon we can go to the farmers market." I pull my face from the pillow and give him a look of annoyance before dropping it back down sighing deeply. The farmers market is the last place I want to be right now. It's always so crowded by middle aged white women and their children looking for organic food. I personally think it's impossible for fruits to be genuinely organic here in London during the winter but people are going crazy for it.

"W-Why would we g-go to there?" I ask as I sit up and rub at my eyes. I'm still wearing last nights clothes and I want nothing more than to change into a pair of sweatpants and curl up in my bed next to Damon and sleep the rest of the day away.

"Because it's not good to lay around all the time and you're also running low on groceries." He explains and I roll my eyes before putting my glasses off. Damon walks off to the kitchen and comes back with a second cup of tea that he hands to me. I take a small sip and am careful not to burn myself as Damon sits down.

"J-Jamie will come around with groceries l-later today." I shrug and Damon furrows his eyebrows and shoots me a strange look. I just ignore him and focus on willing away my upset stomach and headache. I've decided that I don't really like drinking all that much. It made me more of an emotional wreck than usual and it wasn't great.

"Why is Jamie buying your groceries?" He asks. I yawn and rub at my eyes a bit before taking another sip of tea.

"You know I-I don't like putting myself in social situations. Buying p-paint is a struggle for me most of the time. It just takes a major weight off m-my chest to know that I don't have to worry about i-interacting with that many people I don't know." I tell him and he looks sad for a brief moment before he covers it up with an unsure smile. I wonder if he's freaked out by me now. Probably.

"If the market isn't an option why don't we go out for lunch at least? I've been inside for too long." He tells me and I squint at him.

"We w-went out yesterday th-though." I complain. He huffs out an annoyed sigh but also chuckles at me before ruffling my hair. I don't know why he does that and I'm not sure if I like it all that much.

"Just be dressed by one, okay?" He smiles as he presses a kiss to my forehead and I blush. "I'm going to go visit Alex for a little bit." He finishes his tea and puts the cup in the sink before pulling on a pair of knackered converse and leaving.

A content feeling washes over me in that very second. I have someone who likes me in my life. I have someone who is romantically interested in me. I have Damon. I realize how domestic we've become in the past week. Always making each other tea and coffee. Every time he makes mine right I like him just that little bit more.

The clock reads 12:40pm and I should probably start getting ready. I rinse out my empty cup before sitting it in the sink for when I do the dishes later. I then make my way to the bathroom and turn the shower on the hottest setting before stripping down until nothing is covering me. I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and it hits me like a punch to the gut but I'm determined to not let my horrible self esteem ruin today for me.

The water burns my skin when I first step in but it doesn't take that much to get used to it. I quickly wash myself and make sure to avert my attention away from any mirrors when leaving the bathroom.

I choose to wear a plain red t-shirt and a darker pair of jeans. I use a blow dryer to dry my hair and finally put on my glasses just as Damon is coming back in. "You ready to go?" He asks as I walk out of my room. I nod. He seems pleased that I'm up and ready to go.

"Where are we going?" I ask him. I hope he picks somewhere good and quiet. I'd rather not have to talk loudly over hoards of people or have a panic attack in a public bathroom today. It's easily avoidable as long as Damon knows.

"Alex told me about this new restaurant that's supposed to have really good food." He shrugs as he leans back on the wall. He still has his shoes on and probably wants to leave soon but I'm nervous again. It's a new restaurant on a sunday afternoon. It's going to be quite busy and I'm not ready for that. Damon quickly notices how uncomfortable I am. "You won't have to talk to anyone but me for the whole time. I'll even order for you." He assures me. What did I do to deserve this man?

"W-Well I g-guess w-we could check it out." I'll be miserable but his smile right now is worth it.


	13. Damon makes a mistake.

(Damon's POV)

Lunch was pleasant. After Graham realized that no one was staring and we got a table in the far back corner, he began to open up and we had full conversations about his art, my music, and maybe one day getting him into a studio to record some songs. I wish he'd believe me when I say he's talented. I've never heard someone play a guitar as well as him.

"You can't be serious! Yes, I like The Smiths, but The Cure will always be ten times better." He scoffs as he lightly drags his knackered converse along the pavement. We've been arguing for almost the whole walk home and truth be told, I like The Cure better. I just want to give him a reason to talk to me.

"Hmm. That's your opinion." I hum jokingly and he playfully rolls his eyes at me before going back to silently counting the steps until we're back at his apartment. I don't mind having to be the one to start conversations with him, I just wish they lasted a lot longer than they typically do. I love talking to him.

The air is cold and I can visibly see my breath. My jacket is so thin and I'm reminded that I have no money and I'm basically just spending Graham's. I really need to get a job. I just don't want to be faced with the situation that comes with having enough money to pay for a plane ticket. He probably wants me to leave at some point but I sort of don't want to.

I grab his hand in the elevator of his apartment building and I swear I've never seen someone blush a deeper shade of red in my life. My heart swells and I mentally awe at the sight of it. I've really gotten lucky with him, haven't I? I can barely keep the smile off my face.

The apartment feels more like home than my parent's house ever did. Everywhere I look I can picture Graham and I messing around with the guitars, Graham and I watching TV and sharing coffee, Graham and I kissing... Needless to say, I love living here. Graham goes straight to the kitchen and starts to make us tea as I set up a movie. Sometimes I can just tell what he's thinking about. I think he's just wanted to watch a movie all day.

He comes back with our drinks as I press play. I chose The Breakfast Club. We sit on my bed and he cuddles his way into my side and focuses on the TV. I take in his appearance as discreetly as I can. His hair is messy in the nicest ways and his glasses have slipped down his nose slightly. I smile to myself as he leans his head on my shoulder. He seems sleepy. I'm not going to tell him he can't take a nap. It's probably been a tiring day for him so far.

Not long after he falls asleep, the phone begins to ring and I rush to grab it before he wakes up. I'm successful.

"Hello?" The other end of the line is dead silent for almost a full minute and for a split moment, I'm about to hang up. I know that the only people Graham talks to live here in this building and I'm intrigued, so I wait it out and thank God I do because a woman begins to speak.

"Um, hello. I was wondering if Graham was there?" Hmm. Thoughts of who this could be swirl around my head until I almost forget that I have to speak to her. Is it his long lost family member? A high school sweetheart hoping to rekindle what they had? I hope it's not that one. Deep down I know that Graham wouldn't leave me but I've always been a paranoid person.

"He's busy right now but I can take a message." My tone is cheery and bright as it always is when I speak to new people. Being concerned about making a good first impression is just second nature to me at this point.

"Well when you can, tell him that is would be greatly appreciated if he came home for Christmas. His mother misses him." She has a hint of sadness laced in her voice and I begin to piece together the details of hers and Graham's relationship. I don't have much to go off of but I can tell it's strained.

"Sure thing! I'll tell him as soon as possible!" I smile into the reciever. It might be good for Graham to reconnect with his family. Something tells me he doesn't see them very often. I can tell that his mother at least wants to see him.

"Thank you. Ehm, I never caught your name?" She coughs. I might as well introduce myself.

"Oh, I'm Damon." I laugh. "I'm Graham's roommate." I add in as I'm not sure if his parents know about his attraction to men. It's better to be safe than sorry. I would never want to put Graham in that situation.

"If you're not busy on the holidays you're welcome to tag along with Graham. He's never had many friends and it would be nice to meet you..." That breaks my heart. She cares about him. She just wants what's best for him.

"I might take up that offer if that's alright with you." I want to be there to support Graham through whatever familial tension he has the potential to go through. I'll be there for him no matter what. 

"Okay, thank you Damon. I guess I'll be seeing you on Christmas." She sounds a lot happier now. I wonder how long it's been since she's seen her son.

We exchange goodbyes and I occupy myself by starting to make supper. Hopefully Graham enjoys pasta because it might just be the only thing I can sort of prepare that tastes good. It only takes another hour for him to groggily make his way into the kitchen.

"Whatcha making? Smells good." He sniffles before yawning and rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. I want to take him in my arms and keep him there forever. I just smile and thank him as I stir the sauce in the pan.

"Your mother called by the way." His face instantly falls. My stomach drops in a weird way and I feel as if I've made a grave mistake.

"What did she say?" He asks as be begins to nervously fidget. I need to convince myself that I'm doing good by making Graham go home for Christmas but I really don't know why I assumed he had a great childhood. Ugh. I've already messed everything up. He's going to make me leave now.

"She was wondering if we wanted to go there for Christmas." I act like it isn't a big deal because it might not be. Graham might just shrug it off and not care about what's happening. "I'm thinking we could go and visit."

It is a big deal though. He starts hyperventilating and sits down on the kitchen floor. His knees are pulled up to his chest as if the smaller he makes himself the more likely he'll disappear and he throws his face into his hands. "D-Did you tell her we're going?" I feel bad.

"I guess I maybe sort of did." I mentally cringe at how inconsiderate and awful I am. It's not my job to bring families together. Why am I acting like it is?

The sob he let's out is heartbreaking. He looks torn into pieces and I realize it's my fault. I could have just told Graham she called and forgot completely about the whole call but no, I've confirmed our attendance to what seems to be Graham's personal hell. I sit next to him and try to put my hand on his shoulder, but he flinches away.

"I-I... Why w-would you do that." He lifts his face from his hands and reveals thick angry tears rolling down his red cheeks. I've really messed up now. I wouldn't even blame him if he never wanted to speak to me again.

"I don't know! She sounded so sad on the phone and I guess I just got lost in my thoughts and agreed!" I rush out the explanation, hoping he's not mad at me but I know he is.

He sighs deeply and wiped his cheeks. He takes a few more deep breaths until he can breathe at a normal pace before pulling himself off of the floor by the counter. "I'm gonna g-go paint." He sounds cold and broken.

"N-No Graham wait! I can call back and cancel! Please don't be mad!" I plea as he stomps away. Pain spreads over my chest and my stomach feels like there's a brick deep in it. No. I don't want him to be mad. I don't like it when he ignores me. I'd rather have him scream the most hurtful things at me than act like I don't exist. Graham's not one to yell though.

In my own opinion, there are three types of anger. The first one is physical. It's when people mainly use their fists to take it all out. Those people can be dangerous. The second is the most common. People who scream and yell and say mean things. The last hurts the most. Quiet anger is painful for everyone. It's not good to hold that all in and it's not good to feel like this.

I look around the kitchen and realize I've burnt the sauce. This day had so much potential and now it's over. Graham probably wants out and I might just leave without making him ask me. I don't think he wants to see me right now.

I run my hand down my face before turning off the stove. Everything is silent. There's no music, the TV is off, Graham's not humming random songs thinking no one can hear him. The apartment is a ghost town and I'm in the middle of it. I've never felt so lonely.

I quietly make my way to my suitcase and rummage through it until my hand catches the lovely jar. I pull out my weed and rolling papers and roll myself a joint at the coffee table before cleaning everything up and wrapping my duvet around myself.

The balcony is cold and there's half an inch of snow sitting on the railings. I ignore it and sink further into the warm blanket. I light my joint and look out at the grey city. I think about how I never wanted to stop when I was on tour. We'd finish one a show in another shitty venue and I wouldn't want to get a hotel or explore the town. I was back and forth between the van and the venues. I never wanted to see the light of day and I just wanted to be numb. Now I'm basically settled in a home and even found a romantic interest for my life. I didn't know I wanted this. I guess it's not going to be like this for long and I'm going to have to let go, but I'll miss it. I'll miss what I had for merely a day.

The door opens and closes but I don't look. I can't bring myself to look at what I've done. The sadness I've created. Graham sits next to me and wraps the blanket around both of us. I take a long drag of my joint and he pays no mind to it. I don't know if he's okay with drugs, well, he obviously isn't from what I could tell when I first met him, but if he doesn't think less of me for doing them.

Silence. It's too quiet even with the street below filled with speeding cars and honking horns. Nothing is spoken but with the way Graham pushes his body into mine, I know I'm forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, I'm sorry this took so long but it's been stressful.
> 
> Fun fact tho: I wrote most of this chapter when my school went into lockdown for 4 straight hours because a kid threatened to bring an airsoft gun to school. Keep in mind, they didn't tell us anything that was happening and the swat team ignored my classroom and forgot to give us bathroom escorts and food. That was not very cash money.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading this chapter and watch Umbrella Academy because it's great :)


	14. Thinking spots.

(Graham's POV)

After the whole Christmas dinner ordeal, Damon decided to go to Alex's for a few hours. I'm sort of grateful that he did because now I have a few hours to think over what to say to him and whether or not I should call my mother to break the news that I won't be showing up for yet another year. I get that she wants to see me and take a look what I've been up to, but I don't think I'm ready.

I lay around in different areas of the house to try and jumpstart my brain. Leaning half off the couch was the most comfortable, but the kitchen floors got me thinking the most. I laid there for hours thinking up different solutions but only two logical ones came to me. I could either suck it up and just go visit my family with Damon, or call and tell everyone that I wont be coming.

"Why are you on the floor?" Damon is hanging the apartment keys on the little hook I put up near the door and taking his shoes off as he asks me. I was so scared he thought I was mad at him earlier. Well, I guess I was a little angry, but I didn't want him to feel bad about it.

"Thinking." I answer simply and he just nods because he understands. He steps over me and asks if I want any tea. So this is domesticity? I can't believe I've missed out on it for so long. "How was Alex's?"

"Fine I guess. We drank wine and ate cheese. I would have felt like a proper grownup if he actually cleaned his apartment." From this angle, I can see Damon's wonky teeth when he laughs and it makes me smile.

"Hmm it's not like you clean up after yourself." I scoff and he rolls his eyes as he steps over me again to get to a different cupboard. "You can't really judge him, to be honest."

"I clean up now!" He whines in protest. "You leave empty coffee cups all over the place." He exaggerates and points presumably over to the livingroom, or should I say his bedroom, but I can't see it over the counter from the floor.

"Okay, okay. I get it." I laugh. Damon is great but he sure does like to complain. "Do you think we should go to my parent's house for Christmas?" I peer up at him and bite down hard on my lip. I want him to say no, but the chances of that are scarily small.

"Yes!" He answers quickly. "You're not telling me anything, but I know something needs to be resolved there." I make sure to ignore that last part to the best of my abilities. It makes me realize just how much Damon doesn't know about me. We should probably work on better communication if we want this to go anywhere.

Another lengthy sigh slips past my lips as I stare up at my outdated ceiling fan, wishing that it would fall onto me one day. It always creaks and whirs when it's on and me lying right under it just shows that I'm basically asking for it to crush me. It's probably why I always think the best in the kitchen. There's always that little voice in the back of my head telling me that the thought I have might be my last. "I guess we have to go."

I don't regret my decision too much because Damon looks excited. He's barely one to pry, I can tell he doesn't like it when he doesn't know something.  I'm grateful that he's never really asked me any personal questions, other than when he asked if I actually enjoyed the art I make. I'm still recovering from that bomb of a question he dropped on me. It made me think too much and I've found over the past few years that ignorance is bliss.

"Seriously?" Damon asks in disbelief. I figure he thought I'd put up more of a fight about this, but the longer I allow myself to go over everything, the more I realize how long overdue this all is. I've barely had any communication with my family for the past four years. Every second month on the twelfth my mother calls me. She's never missed a call and no matter how hard I try I can never ignore the phone ringing. I always answer without fail even when I know I'm just throwing myself into an awkward conversation where she will occasionally bring my dad or siblings in to say hi.

I sit up and shrug nonchalantly. I don't need to show how nervous this is making me. I can panic about it later when I'm alone in my room, but for now I need to put on a brave face and show Damon that I'm not completely as pathetic as one might believe. The phone is too close to me for my liking. If it were farther away I wouldn't have to make this call.

The number is one I know by heart. It's been the same since I was a kid. My hand feels unnatural as push the buttons. Everything I'm doing feels so foriegn right now but as I hold my breath I keep repeating the same words in my head over and over. 'You miss them. They miss you' and 'Damon might stop thinking you're an anxiety ridden freak if you do this'. I barely even believe myself.

One ring, two rings, three rings. Someone picks up. I know it's my dad and just that alone makes me almost want to hang up and lock myself in my bedroom, but no. I need to do this.

"Hey dad." The words have a bitter edge to them. I think he could tell and I wish he couldn't. I'm not going to hear the end of it at Christmas if we do actually go. He's always been bothered by the way I speak to him, but respect isn't supposed to be one sided. He thinks I'm scum. I know that.

"Son." He acknowledges me. "Why are you calling?" It's the most confusion I've ever heard in his monotone voice ever. Like me calling once in a while is an oddity that perplexes him beyond belief. I get it though. It might just be.

"I-I just w-wanted to tell y-you guys that me and my friend will be c-coming over for Christmas i-if you don't mind." I find myself stuttering uncontrollably and Damon takes immediate notice. I was doing so well with my stuttering dropping it down to one or two words a sentence or sometimes even none. It's funny how things like this can bring me right back to square one.

"Oh... Lovely Gra. I'm looking forward to it." He still sounds boggled and I want to hang up on him but I know it would be rude. I kick at the kitchen tiles  with my sock covered feet. This all feels like a mistake and I'm already so racked up with nerves that I feel I could throw up, but I need to make myself numb to the awkward experiances. I need to stop caring. I know I'm a far way away from that but I have to start somewhere right?

"Well, I think I'm gonna hang up now. I'll see you soon." My father is the first to find an out. Some would say he's the one I got my aversion to life in general from, but he's got nothing on me. He hangs up without letting me say goodbye. It stings a great deal but what else do I say to someone I haven't seen face to face in nearly five years?

"Are you okay?" I finally look over to Damon who's sitting at the counter. It feels like there's a pile of bricks on my chest, my eyes are watering, and I probably look like I'm about to break down but I smile so wide that it hurts my cheeks.

"Yeah. I think I am." This is growing up.

***

Unity. I feel as if Damon and I are one when he kisses me. It's so strong that I barely know what to do with myself. My mind goes blank and all I can think about is him until we separate. It's a feeling I'll never get used to, but for once unfamiliarity is not a bad thing to me.

"If we're going to fast just tell me." Damon pauses and I nod quickly, wanting nothing more than for his lips to meet mine once again. They eventually do and I feel complete once again.

Damon had added his tongue a while ago and I caught on pretty quickly. Just let him explore my mouth and relish in the fact that someone actually wants to kiss me. I still don't know if that will ever be normal. I've never had someone want me before. It's an overpowering feeling that makes my heart beat just a bit faster than it should.

Slowly but surely, his hand creeps under my shirt and his cold fingers make me gasp. It goes unnoticed though and I'm thankful because I don't really want him to stop.

Just as his hand drops to play with the zipper of my jeans, a knock on the door interrupts us. I let out an audible sigh as I pray my erection is not noticeable. I open the door to see Grace standing there with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

"Where might you have been on sunday Graham?" She sounds slightly aggravated as she prepares to scold me. I have to think for a minute to remember what exactly I was doing. I don't remember but I know I was probably up to no good. Damon might be getting me to come of of my shell, but I have to say I've been quite out of character since he's come into the picture.

"I'm so sorry!" I rush out. I truly am. I've never skipped a visit and now I just feel awful because she was probably expecting me to be there but I never showed up. God, I'm terrible.

"It's okay Graham. Just please show up next time. Don't make me waste perfectly good coffee like that." She waves it off and I let out a sigh of relief. I don't know what I would do if Grace were ever genuinely mad at me. She's the closest thing I have to a family and I would be lost without her.

"I will. I promise." I say as sincerely as possible. I know she looks forward to our visits.

"Graham, who's there?" Damon asks softly from the livingroom and Grace's face lights up. My insides tighten and I almost just want to leave. This is not a good time for her to meet him. We're both quite obviously hard and the inside of my apartment is a mess.

"Is that your balcony boy? Oh please do make him come to the door. I should probably give that boy a stern talking to." She smiles devilishly and I just want to go back to my little world only Damon and I share. I'm usually not to keen on being reminded that the outside world exists when we're there.

With a heavy step I walk to the livingroom, dreading the events that are about to take place. One of them is going to say something embarrassing about me in some way and I'm not excited to find out who. I know it's probably going to be Grace though because she knows more than Damon.

"Grace wants to meet you." He looks up from the book he's just started reading. My voice sounds somber. I know it does. That's just how I feel about this though. Damon doesn't say anything just yet. He shrugs and gets up. Following me to the door. Now I just have to sit back and watch this madness unfold.

Someone please help me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I can't believe it didn't take me a month to write another chapter


	15. Graham's head is so full it might explode.

(Graham's POV)

Reading reviews of your own art is a surreal experience. The reviewers don't know anything they're talking about but it doesn't make it any less crazy to see. I do always find it funny that they all still think any of it means something. I'm no tortured artist. I'm a machine that makes emotionless art for mindless consumers. I don't expect them to understand it. I never have.

I remember when art was stripped down to it's purest form to me. I was given an art kit for my birthday from my eldest brother. We always got along the most. He taught me how to draw different animals and simple shading techniques. By the time I had finished drawing our family pet, Lucy, my eight year old brain had decided I was going to be an artist.

I don't hate my job. I'm just tired of lying when I say I love it. The longer Damon is around the more my forgotten dreams sneak up on me. He keeps pushing me to pick up my guitar more and it's all getting to my head. I need to remember my roots and that I have to stick to what I'm good at. Music just isn't one of my expertises and that's okay with me for now, but the more pressure that gets placed on me, the more I want to throw away my paintbrushes and pick up my telecaster.

"How's it coming along?" Damon asks with a sing song voice as he waltzes through my room with my lunch. He's been making sure I eat and take showers. This is one of my 'best' commissions yet. It's selling for a pretty penny and I have plenty to worry over with this one. Some big museum director is buying it or something and just the thought of someone like him ever critiquing my work makes me feel slightly sick.

"I don't like it." I force myself to pry my eyes away from the canvas to look at my sort-of lover. I don't know what other title to give to him. We aren't dating yet, but we're somewhere on the way. I know we're close.

"Hmm, I think it looks good. Maybe add some black. Y'know, swirl it around in there or some shit." He sounds like a high school student as he passes me my plate. I don't mind peanut butter sandwiches all too much, but it's all I've been eating for the past four days because Damon won't make anything else and I'm scared I'll offend him if I say anything. I guess it's better than just barely eating until I finish a commission. That wasn't the greatest for my health and I know it. 

A staring contest between me, Damon and the painting commences when I take the first bite of my food. I'm staring at the canvas, it's staring back. Damon is staring at me. My room is just a magnifying glass and Damon and I as well as the canvas are the bugs. I pretend not to feel put off by my thoughts. I finish my lunch soon enough and then it's back to work. Damon sits on my bed and reads poetry and I just about feel like we're the most pretentious almost couple alive.

"I still think you should paint the view off your balcony." He sighs without taking his eyes off the pages in front of him. I look out the window and it's still day. A gloomy lighting seeps through all the windows and it makes everything feel dead. I feel dead a lot but these past few weeks have been a bit different I guess.

"I don't even think I can paint those sorts of things anymore." I say truthfully. I used to paint these lovely abstract yet still coherent pieces but no one wanted them. I had to adapt and it took all my individuality with it. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I paint anymore.

"Of course you can!" He smiles that smile he does when he's encouraging me to do something. "Stuff like that is probably simple for a hotshot artist like you." I'm not an artist. I'm definitely not a hotshot. Laughing it off seems like the best option because I'm worried if I say anything it might turn into a serious conversation about my low self esteem. Damon has been trying to help me think more of myself. I let him think he's helping but I'm still just as bad about my self image as I was before.

I do take Damon's advice and swirl a small amount of black into the painting. It looks terrible. Why do I always listen to him? "You have a bad eye for art." I casually tell him. He feigns a hurt look and it makes me laugh. He acts like an absolute child sometimes.

"How dare you! I am artistically inclined and if you can't see that, well then I'm afraid you'll have to leave my personal space." He sits up as straight as possible and points to the door. I make no attempt to protest his jokes and stand up and leave, smirking to myself the whole time.

"Graham! Graham come back! Don't leave me all alone!" He whines but I take over his bed. Three weeks straight of Damon is tiring. I'd be pulling out my hair if I didn't like him so much. It's been two weeks since we've first kissed now and I'm happy it wasn't a one time thing. Again, I wouldn't be sane if it was.

I pay no mind to his overdramatic pleas and pick up the latest novel he's been reading, The Scarlet Letter. I vaguely remember it from high school. My teacher hated me to no end because I would never raise my hand but I was great in her class. Whenever she would pick me to answer questions I'd always just stare at her until she'd roll her eyes and pick someone else.

Damon walks into the livingroom and basically throws himself at me. He has way too much energy right now. I knew two coffees would be too much for him. He just tries to get comfortable while sitting on me and when he finds a good spot, he looks up and shoots me a cheeky grin. "Hi."

I can't resist smiling back at him and running my fingers through his hair. "Why are you like this?" I ask lovingly. He just giggles and buries his face into my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him like he's about to get taken away from me. God, I hope that never happens. Ever.

"We should go out today." He suggests and I tighten my arms around him. I'm tired. I'm not leaving if I have any say about it.

"We went out like last week." I groan and he sits up in my lap. I'm in an uncomfortable position because Damon might look small but he's basically a rock. My legs are probably going to cramp up if we sit like this any longer, but I like having him close to me so I keep my mouth shut.

"Graham, most people leave their houses every day." He tells me seriously and I look away. He's been doing this a lot. I hate it when people worry about my wellbeing and it seems to be the only thing he's been doing this past week. It started with him questioning the way I sleep off most of the day, and then we had a long talk about why I don't go to the grocery store. I feel exposed and embarrassed when he asks things like that. I should probably ask him to stop but I'm scared that he'll get offended and see it as me not wanting him to care. I do want him to care though.

"Well I'm not 'people'." I shrug as he manages to turn around and face me. He has a steady smile gracing his features and he's gently playing with my hair. Somehow my whole body is relaxed but my mind is racing. I need to keep him around. I can't go without this.

He let's out a chuckle before placing his lips onto mine. It shocks me just as much as it did the first time. I didn't know I could feel a good kind of shock, but this is proof. The tenderness and feelings of adoration running between us in this moment makes me want to experience it forever. It always ends too quickly though.

"Let's visit Alex or something." Damon breathes quietly into my ear. I guess that kiss was a bribe but I might take him up on his offer. He seems a bit antsy as of today and he just wants to get out. It makes me feel bad that I'm probably standing in the way of Damon doing what he wants.

"Only for a little bit." I almost whisper as if I won't have to actually go if he doesn't hear me. He does hear me though. He basically beams and presses a few sloppy kisses to my cheek.

"You're amazing Graham." He moves his hands and presses them flat on my chest. I blush at the comment because no one's ever found me to be amazing. I've always been too quiet and plain for most people but Damon thinks I'm amazing. That really is something.

***

It's not too long until Damon and I are standing side by side in front of Alex's apartment door. I wouldn't be surprised if Alex secretly hated me because I've refused to hang out with him so many times. I've felt unimaginable guilt every time I refuse, but I can never usually just bring myself to go along with things and just say yes.

When the door swings open, Alex stares at us, motionless. Well, I guess he stares more at me. He blinks a few times before a bright smile takes over his face. "Graham!" He cheers as he pulls me into a bone crushing hug. I've never liked how touchy he can be, but he causes no harm. I don't hug back though. He doesn't take it personally I hope. "Come on in guys!"

Alex's apartment could use a bit of cleaning, but with the way Damon explained it last time, I think he's actually picked up some clutter. He leads us to his couch and there's a plate of cheese and crackers as well as a bottle of wine on the table. I've never really done adult things like share conversations over wine. I can hardly call day drinking and eating cheese with Alex James an adult thing, but I guess we all have to start growing up somewhere.

Damon and Alex keep themselves busy by arguing over the best Beatles album. It's quite amusing to hear them bicker and watch as our host pours us wine while yelling that Rubber Soul is a masterpiece. I just sip at my drink as soon as it's handed to me. All of this is going to get so much better if I'm drunk.

"Oh c'mon mate. You're wrong and you know it. Just agree with me. Abbey Road is the best." Damon urges Alex who wildly shakes his head. I take a moment to ask myself why Damon didn't just stay with Alex when his band left him. They seem to be good friends by the looks of it. I'm happy that he didn't choose to live with him though.

I can hear Alex's stereo in the kitchen very faintly and I decide to focus on it. It's hard but my mind is too occupied with thoughts of upcoming deadlines for my work, Christmas and well, Damon of course. I need a firm grip on something I know to calm everything down. New Order plays and I sing along in my head. All the thoughts rush away and I'm at peace for a moment. Even with Damon and Alex screaming in my ears.

"You're both wrong. The Magical Mystery Tour is their best album." Their jaws hang open in disbelief that I even spoke as I smirk and lean over to grab a cracker.

The arguing resumes soon after, but this time I'm included. New Order continues to play in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um this took a little longer for me to put out because I'm somehow already failing science even though I've only been in the class for 20 days?? I'm a bit scared for the rest of this course ngl. It's kind of sucking the life and motivation out of me.


	16. Not quite ready.

(Graham's POV)

Damon's been acting weird lately. It's not a bad kind of weird, but it's just not normal for him. Somehow, he's become even more touchy and is all too keen on making out. Not that I mind though.

It's pretty late in the day and Damon is sleeping with his head on my lap while I watch some shitty American TV show about witches. I've had to pee for hours but I wouldn't dare to wake him up when he looks as peaceful as he does now.

It's been almost a month since Damon has entered my life and a lot has changed around here. For a start, the apartment has been ten times messier than it's always been. I also leave my house more than once a week and Damon has even convinced me to call my parents more often. Alex and Jamie have been seeing a lot more of me as of late as well since we visit Alex frequently and I occasionally call Jamie just to chat sometimes. I think things are finally starting to look up.

Christmas is fast approaching though. Yes, I talk to my family more often than before, but I don't think I'm prepared to actually face them. I get so worried that they're disappointed in me for becoming an artist that the thought of seeing them makes me feel physically sick.

One of the witch characters dies in the show and I chuckle because the acting is atrocious. I don't understand the public's obsession with witches and black magic lately, but I guess it can be interesting. This show however is not.

"What are you watching?" Damon asks, making me jump. I look down at him to see his tired eyes focused on the TV. I laugh and run my fingers through his messy hair.

"I don't know." I answer truthfully. He sits up and cuddles into my side as the screen blares away under our vacant stares. I guess it's another day in today. "I feel like I should at least be getting some work done." I sigh.

"No! Stay!" Damon fusses as he pulls me closer towards him. I roll my eyes and turn to face him and he just smiles obliviously.

"What's with you lately?" I ask and he blushes. Aha! So there is something weird going on. I raise my eyebrows and looks away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. I just continue to stare at him expectantly.

"I-uhh..." He almost whispers and I'm dying to find out what has him all worked up now. He's never really been like this before and the blush on his cheeks is only getting darker. This bashful new side of him is leaving me unnerved if I'm being honest.

"Well spit it out then!" I joke and he blushes even harder and he avoids eye contact at all costs. "C'mon Damon I just wanna know." I try a different approach. Maybe if I'm sweet he'll be guilted into telling me?

"I dont think I should tell you right now." He chokes out and moves further away from me on the sofa. Great. Now I've done something wrong. This is why I usually just keep my mouth shut. I stare at my hands as I play with them.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly and I feel him move closer again. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug as he presses a soft kiss to the side of my head. I swear my heart jumps every time he does something like this. It cannot be healthy but it's not as if I even care.

"You didn't do anything wrong... it's just that- I just. I dont want to make you uncomfortable and just say it." He sighs. Now I'm just dying to know what it is. How is it going to make me uncomfortable? I'm probably the most comfortable I've ever been around him. How could I ever be uncomfortable?

"What is it?" I ask softly. The anticipation is beginning to get to me and the longer I wait the more impatient I get. I've never been like this before. I usually classify myself as the most patient person I know. 

"When are we going to have sex Graham?" Damon finally blurts out and I swear all colour drains from my face as my jaw hangs slightly open and my eyes widen. I should have listened to him for my own good.

"Well... I don't know- maybe... maybe soon? I'm not sure I'm ready." I play with a loose thread on the couch and try my best not to look at him as I do so. It's not that I don't want to sleep with him, it's just that I'm terrified and I dont even know why. Every time I think about it, or we get close to doing it my heart starts racing and my stomach twists into nervous knots. I'm just not ready. "D-Do you want to?"

"Of course I want to, but that doesn't matter if you don't." He assures me but I can't help but feel like I'm letting him down. I really do like him and I can see a future for us. I don't understand why it's so difficult for me to even fathom.

"I do want to." I tell him firmly. I need him to know I want him because I do. I want him more than anything in the world. He looks deep in thought once again for a few moments and I worry he's contemplating on ways to get back to Leads. The thought alone makes me want to cry.

"We don't have to immediately start with sex you know. There's always... other things we can do." He hints and I finally let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in. He's staying. Also, he's suggesting something that I like the sound of. I might not be ready for full on sex, but I can definitely give him a blowjob or something along those lines.

I'm not sure how it even started, but I quickly find myself under Damon while he trails sloppy kisses up and down the exposed skin of my neck. My skin feels as if it's on fire with every kiss and I arch myself into his touch. His hands run along my whole body and I'm left a writhing mess on the couch.

Things have definitely escalated quickly. He plays with the zipper on my jeans and everything suddenly comes into focus. I can't do this. What if I mess up? What if he thinks I'm not good and leaves? I... god-

"Stop!" I Yelp and he immediately jumps away looking terrified. I probably do to. "I-I can't. I'm not ready." I breathe heavily as I try to fight off the onset of tears. I feel really bad now. He looks sad. Why couldn't I have just calmed myself down and taken it? I know he's not going to hurt me or deliberately do anything to make me uncomfortable. I'm just whiney and pathetic.

"Gra? Graham what's wrong? What did I do?" Damon frantically asks as he tries to get me to look at him. I'm having a panic attack. I can't breathe. I ruined everything. Now he's going to leave because he'll realize I'll never be ready for it. I'll have to go back to sitting around in my apartment watching tv alone all day but everything will just be worse than how it was.

I really don't know what I'd do if he leaves. He's only been in my life for such a short period of time, but I'd be completely lost without him. Jamie and Alex would go back to being able to count the times they see me a month on one hand again and I would most likely just be miserable. I can't go back to how things were anymore. I don't want to.

"Graham please talk to me." I'm brought out of my thoughts as Damon begs. He looks really worried and his hands are shaking slightly over mine. I sniff harshly as I wipe some tears off my cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Sorry. It's a word I've said many, many times. It's a word I will most likely say much more as well. I never stop to think about how much I say it because it doesn't matter to me. I feel bad for something I did. Whether it's having a full blown panic attack when my boyfriend tries to do stuff with me or taking to long to do something, I'm always saying it. Damon tries to stop me most of the time now, saying that I have nothing to be sorry for but I know I do.

"Don't be sorry Gra. It's not your fault. I was moving too fast." He sits back next to me and pulls me onto his lap. I feel safe. Nothing can hurt me here. I relax into him.

"I just don't want to disappoint you." I admitt. I feel like I'm disappointing him all the time with everything I do. He never let's it show but I know he is when I refuse to leave the house, or paint something that he can tell I absolutely hate but still sell. Sometimes I wonder why he still puts up with me.

"You could never. How could I be disappointed by someone so perfect?" He asks and my cheeks immediately heat up. He thinks I'm perfect? I and most other people think I'm generally kind of a fuck up. But Damon? He thinks I'm perfect. Fitting. I think he's perfect too. I just hope he's not just saying that.

"I'm not perfect." I respond. I love that he thinks that about me, but I can't let him. I'm not perfect. I mess up a lot. Today should have been evidence of that.

"Nobody is truly perfect to everyone. That's why I think you're perfect but you don't. You have to stop putting yourself down so much Graham. You're a very lovely person. I quite like spending time with you." He explains with a toothy grin. I love him.

The thought sticks itself to the side of my brain. I love him. Do I? Is it too soon to even be thinking about love? Jesus look at me. Getting all worked up again. I take a deep breath and lean my head on Damon's chest. My happy place.

There's far too many things on my mind lately. Damon is among them but my parents and art are too. We have to leave for Christmas in three days. It's coming up far too fast for my liking. I'm not even close to being mentally prepared enough to be around my whole family whom I haven't seen in years. Plus, I'm bringing home a boyfriend. I don't think they're not going to be too happy about that. It's not like it's obvious I like men. I liked girls all through high school.

My art is a whole other situation. Since Damon's been here, I've been extremely aware of how much I dislike it. Every single painting is worst than the last, but people still eat it up. It's gotten so far from everything I wanted. It's just colours. That's all it is now. I almost don't have the strength to keep doing it because it hurts my soul with each new painting I sell.

Damon has his own category. Most of my thoughts are intertwined with him and what he thinks and whether he's happy. I barely have time to think about myself but I honestly like it better that way. I've been in a much better mindset having someone else to take my mind off everything that has to do with me. 

The late afternoon sun creeps into the apartment as the tv continues. I begin to nod off with my face pressed into the crook of Damon's neck. There could be a thousand things that I have to think about but that all doesn't matter because here, in this moment, life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! This took a lot longer than it was supposed to and I apologize for that. 
> 
> I also just want to say that I see all the comments and y'all are so damn lovely and sweet.


	17. Familiarity.

(Graham's POV)

Today is finally the day Damon and I leave for my parent's house. We've rented a car to drive since flights are expensive around this time of year. We're going to probably drive straight through. It's a four hour car ride and we both made sure we had enough cds to get us through the silent twisting roads. This drive generally does make me nervous. Especially with how fast transport truck drivers can barrel down that highway.

"Did you grab the snacks?" Damon asks as he throws his duffel bag into the trunk. I nod as I double check everything from the front seat. My sketch book lies on my lap with some pencils and pencil crayons and there's cheese and crackers in a Tupperware at my feet. We're just about set to leave and my nerves begin to set in. I keep telling myself that I still have another eight hours before I have to see my family, but I know it's going to be awful.

I really do hope that they just assume Damon is my boyfriend so I don't have to actually verbalize anything. That would just be terrible if I have to explain to my parents and siblings that I now like men and will never have any children. That's going to hit my mom hard. She wants grandchildren so badly. My brother gave her a little bundle of joy to fawn over and so did my sister. I have yet to meet either of their children. I didn't even get a call when they were born. That's when I realized I was truly the black sheep of the family.

Now we finally hit the road. I look out the rear window and watch my apartment building shrink the further Damon takes us. An acoustic guitar Alex gave us sits in the backseat. Damon practically begged me to take it and I just couldn't say no. I was on board with the idea in the first place because I know when the time comes for me to drive, he'll be serenading me. I hate driving but it makes it easier for me to not flat out refuse doing it.

All this has made me realize is that Damon has convinced me to not run away anymore. It was always my go to solution. I'm always running. I'm so tired of it though. All these years of thinking that my London apartment would be it for me are finally over. There's life outside. I'm almost willing to live it. I know Damon will be my final push to it. I open my sketch book and begin to doodle with the warm fuzzy feeling still in my chest.

"I hope your parents get you a puppy for christmas. Like, imagine this ride but with a puppy. Instantly better." Damon speaks after almost two and a half hours of silence. It makes me crack up a bit and shake my head. That would be an awful idea but I can let him dream.

"Let's just focus on getting there, yeah?" I smile and he laughs from the driver's seat. I'm in a great mood for once but there's still a nervous pit in my stomach. What if my family doesn't approve of our relationship and kicks us out? How will Damon even feel about me if that happens? The thought of him leaving because something my parents might do only brings me pain and it hasn't even happened.

"Something's wrong." He says quietly as he looks over to me. I look back. I desperately want to tell him to keep his eyes on the road but even if I did it wouldn't stop him. His blue eyes pierce into mine before he looks back to the highway. "It's going to be okay Graham. They're probably happier to see you than you think."

"What if it's not going to be okay though? I-I... there's too much that could go wrong and we're barely staying for three days. Can we just turn around?" I don't even mean to ask to go home but I want to. I want to just curl up under some blankets and spend christmas the way I want to. Alone with Damon. That would beat visiting my parents any day.

"Graham. Everything will be fine. Just breathe and think about how we can make out in your bedroom when we get there or something okay?" He smirks and I try to hold back my smile as I roll my eyes. It's hardly a good reason to let go of all my fears and doubts, but he's just made me feel infinitely better.

A gas station comes into view and Damon stops at a pump, getting out of the car. I let out a small sigh as he stands outside in the cold. On top of me being stressed, I have to drive now. I hate driving. It's like I'm risking my life every time I get behind a wheel. Now I also have Damon's life in my hands as well. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt him. I'm not a bad driver, just a nervous one.

Slowly, I step out of the car and stretch. My muscles are stiff from sitting still for so long and I have to pee so I make my way inside to pay. The man at the till looks like he hasn't slept in literal years and doesn't speak a word to me which I am thankful for. I quickly use the bathroom before exiting back to the car, this time sitting in the driver's seat. The wheel feels foriegn in my grip as I exhale and begin to drive. Damon hums a Nirvana song as he taps his fingers on the dashboard. I want him to play the guitar, but I'm scared to ask him. We continue on like this for the next hour.

It seems I'm finally getting my wish, because Damon begins to unbuckle his seatbelt and dangerously tries to crawl into the backseat. Naturally, I start to freak out completely to the point where I pull off into the nearest spot off the highway which happens to be the parking lot for some nature trails I'd be surprised anyone would ever give the time of day. I breathe heavily as Damon finally sits in the backseat with the guitar rested on his lap.

"Why'd you stop driving?" He asks clueless. I give him a look and he just shrugs and picks put some simple melodies. I turn off the car and grab the cheese and crackers. Here is as good a place as any to stop and eat. I guess I could eat when I get to my parent's in half an hour, but I wouldn't want to burden them with feeding us. Damon finally settles on playing a few Bob Dylan songs, saying that it's only right on the acoustic. I guess I agree with him in some sense.

I face the backseat as he begins to finish his rendition of 'It's All Over Now Baby Blue'. He flashes me a quick smile and leads forward and pecks my lips. I giggle and run my fingers through his hair.

"We should probably hit the road again." He points out and my bubble is popped. We've been at the desolate parking lot for a while now and the sky is beginning to go dark. It doesn't help that we left London rather later than we wanted to. I blame it on the alarm, Damon blames it on me pulling him back into bed after it went off. I guess it just wasn't loud enough.

The roads look quite icy but I know it's something I can handle. It's not snowing so this last half hour should be a breeze. Damon crawls back up to the front seat once again and buckles himself in. Slowly, I drive back onto the highway and begin to pick up speed. Damon puts a cd in and it calms my nerves as we drive by the welcome sign to the town I grew up in.

The outskirts of town are far nicer than the suburban neighborhood my parents live in. They like to be close to the action and people though. They've always been like that. My grandparents used to live far into the country and going there was probably my favorite childhood memories. They had chickens that I would chase with my dog and goats that would chase us. I have virtually no fond memories of my grandparents themselves because they were actually quite mean though.

Before I even know it, the car is parked outside my parents home beside what I think might be my sister's car. I assume it is because all the tacky bumper stickers. Damon looks at me as if he's silently asking if I'm okay. I can only nod but if I really got into how not okay I am right now, we would be sitting here for hours. 

"You ready?" He asks as he finally goes to open the door. I want to lean over and smack his and away from it just so we could enjoy this last five minutes of no one trying to pry into our personal lives or ask uncomfortable questions. I don't though. I stay firmly planted in the seat with my hands still on the steering wheel. I have to be ready. I have to prove to everyone that I'm strong. I have to prove to Damon that I can overcome my fears.

One deep breath, two, three, four. At last I step out of the car and help Damon grab our stuff from the trunk. It's going to be okay. He told me so. I have absolutely no reason not to trust him. At least he's not given me one yet. 

Standing outside thit brightly painted door gives me so many memories. Some I wish I could forget, and some I wish I could relive. I look to Damon for reassurance. He smiles and kisses my cheek. It warms me from the cold but also opens a whole other can of worms.

"They don't know about us." I almost whisper. I dont want him to take it the wrong way, but if my parents are against it, I at least want to catch up with my family for a little while until being thrown out. At the very least I would like to meet my niece and nephew. My mother always gushes about how adorable they are. Despite the fact that I dislike almost everyone, children don't get on my nerves half as much as adults do. They're just funny and always seem to have a lot of livelihood.

"I know. I won't kiss you in front of them or anything." He promises and I nod. He gets it. One last moment of bliss before I knock. I turn and place my lips on his quickly before straightening out my jacket and knocking on the door.

Moments later it swings open to reveal my mother with her arms wide open. I hug her for the first time in years. I usually hate hugs (with the exception of Damon's) but this was long overdue. I can hear her sniffling against my chest and it makes my heart hurt. I was so wrong when I thought she wouldn't care about me leaving.

"Graham darling, look at you! You're all grown up!" She wipes at her teary eyes. I can hear everyone else in the livingroom talking about their mundane lives and it comforts me in a way I thought it never could. This place will never and could never actually be home for me. Home is in bed with Damon back at London. This is just familiarity. I would never to be one to argue against it though. "C'mon. You can say hi to everyone. Oh! And this must be your friend Damon! I'll get your dad to bring your suitcases to your rooms-" She babbles on as she leads the two of us to the livingroom. This is where the fun truly begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad bc this took me a long time to write but it sucks :(


End file.
